Doctor Who: Parallax - King And Lionheart
by Montana
Summary: EPISODE IV: Rose and The Doctor respond to a distress signal from the planet Barcelona in the year 6843. Once there, they discover the Judoon have sequestered the planet as they search for a group of intergalactic mercenaries. Nine/Rose, AU/AR
1. Chapter 1

**Obligatory Disclaimer:** I do not own Doctor Who.

**Author's Note:** Here it is! The fourth episode of the Parallax series. For those just dropping in, you might want to go back to episodes I – III and catch yourself up. Otherwise, this won't make a ton of sense, being an AU and all. The previous episodes can be found on my profile. Their titles are, in order:

**_Doctor Who: Parallax – I Won't Dance_**

**_Doctor Who: Parallax – Counting Stars_**

**_Doctor Who: Parallax – Shake It Out_**

* * *

Rose had been entirely too silent for entirely too long. Not that she was ever intolerably chatty, he'd traveled with much more loquacious companions, but he'd been anticipating a conversational opening that would allow him to impart a little secret. That he was speaking of a planet called Barcelona, and not the city. Instead, she'd fallen rather quiet after he'd reiterated the bit about the TARDIS picking up a distress signal, and now, as his ship landed and the Time Rotor wound down, she was leaning over the console and peering intently at the monitor as if the Gallifreyan script would make any sense to her. Once the ship was settled, The Doctor took a second to consider his companion, but he found her expression utterly unreadable.

"Barcelona," she said with an almost reverent hesitation.

"Barcelona," The Doctor confirmed, grinning, "Though, not the city…"

"The planet Barcelona," Rose finished.

"Oh," he said, somewhat deflated, "You've been."

"No, actually," Rose said, finally seeming to shake off whatever mood had struck her and standing upright to face him, "The Doctor meant to take me, but we never quite got 'round to it." It was always a bit odd when she spoke of the other Doctor, like she was talking to him in third person, but he recovered quickly.

"Well, then, now's your chance!" he beamed, enthusiasm renewed, "Shame we're here on business. Maybe later I can show you around."

"You mean after we're done savin' the world?" Rose grinned up at him.

"Well, you know. Priorities," he grinned back.

"Just another day at the office," she shrugged, giving him a gentle punch to the shoulder as she walked past.

"Oi! Hang on,"

"What?" Rose turned around, "Is there a dress code, here?"

"No, I need your mobile," he said, holding out his hand. Rose unsnapped one of her pockets and fished it out, handing it to him, "I realized after we got separated last time I forgot to give your phone a bit of a, shall we say, 'upgrade.'"

"Super phone," Rose nodded, "I suppose that would have been useful," As he turned the smart device over in his hand he gave her a quizzical look.

"So this isn't new to you," he said, one eyebrow raised. Unable to take out the battery and insert an amplifier, he dug out his Sonic and played around with the settings a bit before he found the right one, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Honestly, I just forgot," she shrugged, "Mum and Pete got used to me not callin' for weeks at a stretch." Finished, The Doctor handed back her mobile.

"Well, there you are," he grinned, pocketing the Sonic and heading for the door. Just as she was about to follow him out, the device in her hand commenced a symphony of beeps and chimes as a week's worth of voicemails, texts, and emails hit all at once.

"Hey, hey, hey," she trotted after him, "Switch it off. Make it stop." The Doctor gave her a smug grin as he opened the door.

"Sorry, there's a two-year contract. My hands are tied."

* * *

"Mum, mum, mum, mum," Rose recited as she flipped through the seventeen missed calls, eighty-six texts, and three emails on her phone. She only read some of the texts, being the easiest to access in one go, and it was like watching a slow descent into instability and desperation.

"Phone her back later," The Doctor scoffed, "We're on Barcelona, Rose. Look." With a puffy-cheeked exhalation, Rose put her mobile away and looked around at where they'd landed. Her mobile was instantly forgotten. The sky above them was a pale, crystal-clear shade of lavender interrupted only by wisps of dark gray clouds. Directly above, two suns hung in the pastel sky, appearing terribly close to one another. The larger of the two appeared to be a very pale blue, almost white, while the smaller was decidedly pink.

They'd landed at the far end of what appeared to be an open square surrounded by stunning buildings that strongly echoed the medieval architecture from Earth, save that they were made of metal and glass instead of stone. The square was paved with smooth, glass-like black bricks and in the center stood a monument of oxidized copper depicting a uniformed man mounted atop a creature that looked a bit like a giant, six-legged panther.

"Barcelona is one of only two readily habitable planets orbiting twin stars named Isabella and Ferdinand by the explorers who discovered and colonized the system," The Doctor had begun walking, hands clasped behind his back as he lectured, and Rose instinctively followed.

"So… this is a human planet?" she asked, looking around the square to all the people bustling about. The majority of them looked human to her.

"Of course," The Doctor glanced back at her, "You think it's a coincidence there's a planet named Barcelona? By the year 4,000 the seven wealthiest nations on Earth all had established colonies in other solar systems. Needless to say, this system was colonized by Spain."

"Right," Rose said, catching him up, "So, when are we, now?"

"The year 6843, by Earth reckoning. Locally, they track years by the establishment of the first manned outpost, but as the days last only seventeen hours and it takes 479 days to complete one orbit, direct comparisons get a bit tricky."

"You know I don't really care about any of that, yeah?"

"Let me have my fun," he insisted with an air of feigned dignity. Grinning madly, Rose looped her arm through his and leaned her head momentarily against his shoulder. He couldn't help smiling to himself, just a bit.

"Right, so, you said it's one of two habitable planets?"

"Yes, slightly further from the suns lies the sister colony on Madrid."

"Of course."

"The city we're in, now, is Catalonia, the capital. By far the most beautiful, diverse, and advanced city in the system."

"And the location of the distress beacon," Rose surmised.

"According to the scanners, it's centered on the Presidential Palace, only a few blocks away from here."

"Did it say anything, ya know, specific?"

"'Fraid not," The Doctor said as they passed the monument, and Rose angled for a better look. The cat-like creature had a bobbed tail, and the man riding it held a saber out before him. Seemed a bit anachronistic for the year 6843, but given the architecture and the suns named after 15th century monarchs, she supposed a stubborn adherence to tradition wasn't strictly reserved for the British.

"What color was it?" she asked, still looking at the statue as they passed.

"Color?"

"You know, mauve, etcetera."

"Oh, right. Cerulean."

"That means…"

"You just asked if it was mauve and you don't know what cerulean means?" he arched a brow at her.

"I know mauve means dangerous," she offered, pursing her lips.

"I'm afraid I shall have to speak with this other Doctor of yours," he feigned a critical tone, "Cerulean indicates concerned ambivalence."

"That's awfully specific."

"But that's good, Rose," he beamed, "It means there may not be any danger at all. Whoever sent it is merely concerned about a situation they know little about and they 'rang' for a second opinion."

"We came all this way for a cerulean alert?" Rose asked, "And since when are you excited by the low probability of danger."

"There's so much to see, here, Rose," he sounded almost giddy, and Rose found she had to pick up her pace as his stride lengthened in his excitement, "Art and music and some of the finest food to be found in this entire arm of the Milky Way. Just wait 'till you see the coast. All this perched on limestone cliffs hundreds of feet above the Iberian Sea. It's brilliant, Rose, you're gonna love it."

"Let's not forget, dogs with no noses. I was assured that joke never gets old." His enthusiasm was infectious, and Rose found herself heartened by the knowledge they may not have to run for their lives on this trip after all. They had made it across the plaza and were angling down a side street banked on either side by six-story storefronts boasting the same historic architecture in metal and glass. This was clearly a pedestrian thoroughfare, with the same glassy black paving bricks and planters in the middle of the street which displayed delicate-looking trees with bark so dark it was nearly black and crimson leaves swaying gently on the curling branches. People, humans mostly, with a handful of clearly alien species mixed in, mulled about carrying large, brightly colored Mylar shopping bags.

"What joke?" The Doctor asked, still beaming away.

"You know," she nudged him, "Someone says 'I've a dog with no nose,' so their friend says 'How does he smell?' and the first person says 'Terrible!'" The Doctor let out a burst of laughter and looked down at her.

"'S good. Haven't heard that one. And I've heard a lot of jokes, me." Rose's smile faded when he said that, and she stopped in her tracks, letting go of his arm. The Doctor stopped as well, his face falling quizzical.

"You haven't heard that joke?" she asked, in all seriousness.

"Nope, sorry. Can't know everything," he shrugged, then added, "Don't tell anyone I said that."

"You haven't heard the dog with no noses joke, and when we were escaping the dungeon in Cardiff, and I said 'tis but a flesh wound,' you didn't recognize it." She was pointing at him, sounding almost accusatory. What little smile he'd kept vanished, and his brow creased.

"Sorry, is that a problem."

"What about, 'This parrot is no more'?" He shook his head briefly. "Ministry of Silly Walks?" Again, wide, uncomprehending blue eyes and a perfunctory shake of the head, "The comfy chair?!"

"I'm sorry, no," he shrugged, "Is it important?"

"Is it – Oh, God." Rose said, running her hands over her pulled back hair and sitting down heavily on a bench that likely served as a stop for a tram. The Doctor grew concerned, sitting next to her and taking her shoulders in his hands, trying to get her to look at him.

"Rose. Rose, what is it? What's the matter?"

"Monty Python," she finally said, her dark hazel eyes looked hurt and confused, "You've never heard of Monty Python. I got stuck in a universe where Monty Python doesn't exist."

"And that means…"

"I'll never see them again. Not ever."

"Rose, you've been in this universe how long, and you're just now finding this out? Can't have been that crucial."

"'Bout ten years, and I've been busy," she defended, "Don't watch a lot of telly, and when I do its local broadcasts in languages I only speak enough to order a beer and ask where the loo is."

"Well, everyone has priorities," he hedged.

"Shut it, you," she cracked a bit of a smile at that, giving his shoulder a playful push, "Not all of us can recall five billion languages."

"So this Monty Python is – what, exactly?"

"A comedy troupe. The most insane, irreverent, brilliant performers in Britain. The whole world, even. And I'll never see a sketch or a movie of theirs again."

"I'm sorry," he offered, though he wasn't sure exactly what he was sympathizing with her about.

"Not your fault," she brushed aside, "Just really depressing is all."

"Well, let's get your mind off it, then. Up for a little pokin' about? Maybe some danger, intrigue, runnin' for our lives, savin' the world?" he stood up, holding out his hand. Rose took it, letting him pull her, reluctantly, to her feet.

"What's the point?" she asked, though she fell in step beside him, "Not sure this universe is worth savin'."

* * *

**Footnote:** I don't know that Monty Python originated the "dog with no nose" joke, just that they used it, so play along, kids.


	2. Chapter 2

**Obligatory Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the ideas/plots/characters/species from Doctor Who.

**Dreamcatcher49:** I thought I was on a roll last chapter. Glad it wasn't just me. :D **Mauve Guest:** I think in this instance it's less an issue between two Doctors and more an issue between two universes. She's still very much figuring out all the ways this universe differs from her own. Finding out Monty Python doesn't exist was just a low blow. :D **Royslady51: **I'm sorry, I just can't get behind tights on a man. Unless he's also wearing a sequined gown, designer heels, and a fabulous wig, and belting out show tunes. **TK:** If you like Rowan Atkinson (Mr. Bean) you may like him in Blackadder, as well. If you haven't seen it, already, that is. I'll forgive for not getting Monty Python, if only because I like you. But you're on thin ice. :D Also, regardless of what drink one might want with dinner, I'm sure Rose knows how to order it in at least a dozen different languages.

* * *

The Presidential Palace was nothing short of a marvel. Rose and The Doctor had wound their way through the high shopping street and down through a more local, artisanal merchant square before coming out of the shadows thrown by the tall, close-set buildings to see the palace and its grounds revealed before them. The lawn was a pale sea-foam green through which cut a walkway paved in those glassy black bricks. Halfway to the palace, the path broadened atop a slight knoll and encircled a tree much like the ones she'd seen planted along the pedestrian thoroughfares only much, much larger. The dark trunk wound upward, its curling branches reaching outward, heavy with the trembling crimson leaves.

Beyond the massive tree, the Presidential Palace loomed large and elegant. More broad than tall, it stood all of six stories extending outward to consume the horizon. Its façade was composed of row after row of gracefully crenelated arches wrought of an indeterminate white metal. The windows glistened in a variety of colors under the sunlight not unlike the sheen of a camera lens. Around the grounds at thirty foot intervals stood sentries dressed in smart red uniforms, and round guard towers boasting the same elegant arch-work in the same white metal stood every hundred feet or so. Rose took all this in, eyes wide and an awed, trembling smile pulling at her lips as she stood arm-in-arm with The Doctor.

"The Palacio de los Soles," The Doctor said softly, watching her reaction.

"Palace of the suns," Rose smiled, looking up at him. Then, in response to his stunned look, "What? I actually learned some languages. Spanish and French, mostly. A little German."

"Not just enough to order beer?"

"Dos cervezas, por favor." She grinned, touching her tongue to her teeth.

"In German?"

"Zwei Bier bitte," she said, perfunctorily, before letting go his arm and marching ahead, "Come on, then. Lots to do." The Doctor shook his head and caught her up as they approached the guardhouse nearest the opening of the path. A man and a woman stood at-attention, hands clasped before them. The Doctor stepped ahead, pulling a familiar leather billfold out of his pocket and flipping it open.

"I'm The Doctor," he announced, "This is my associate, Rose Tyler. Responding to a cerulean alert issued by your government." The female guard stepped forward, eying him skeptically before looking at the psychic paper. She glanced between his face and the document once or twice before nodding her head and motioning to the other guard.

"Escort The Doctor and his – associate – to the presidential receiving area," she instructed. Rose's nose wrinkled a bit at the implication in the woman's voice. Everyone seemed to react similarly to her accompanying The Doctor, and while she'd understood it and shrugged it off in her youth, it rather annoyed her, now. The male guard nodded and signaled them to follow as he started up the path toward the crimson tree and the palace beyond. Walking close to The Doctor, Rose leaned in and asked.

"Why'd you need psychic paper to tell him who you already are?"

"Because I've been here before. Helped them out with a slight infestation problem. Only," he hesitated, unsure what she already knew of Time Lord physiology, "I've gotten a bit older. Not sure if they'd recognize me."

"Infestation?"

"Koalas. Someone thought they were terribly clever to genetically engineer koalas to eat the tile grass," he motioned to the lawn around them, "Keep it trimmed so they wouldn't have to cut it." At the mention of tile grass, she took a longer look and realized that the lawn was comprised of squarish 'blades' of grass as wide as her hand that layered over each other and the curves of the land, lifting and swaying briefly whenever a breeze picked up.

"Koalas?" Rose asked, turning back to him, "They had an infestation of koalas."

"Furry little blighters were everywhere. The genetic programming went a bit wrong. Enabled them to eat just about all the plant life on Barcelona, and there weren't enough large predators on the mainland to keep the population in check."

"Koalas?" Rose attempted to clarify, once more.

"The last straw was when they started invadin' the florist shops and nibbling on the endangered bromeliads," The Doctor grinned down at her.

"So, did you have to kill them all, then? Set out giant mouse traps?"

"Goodness, no," he scoffed, "Jus' moved 'em is all. Planet's full of uninhabited islands. Found a lush little spot in the south Iberian with a fair variety of predators. So, we handed out teleport guns and declared open season."

"Right. So, what's it you told them on the psychic paper, then? 'The Doctor: vanquisher of koalas and expert at intergalactic pest control'?"

"Have a look," he shrugged, pulling out the billfold once more and handing it to her.

"_The_ Doctor – underlined, that's a nice touch – Savior of Barcelona, recipient of the Medalla del Ingenio." Rose read aloud before handing it back, "Medal of Ingenuity, really? Humble, you are."

"It's all true," he defended, "Couldn't stop them. Came runnin' after and basically chucked it at me."

"Now, that sounds more like it. People chasin' you and throwin' things." They were just passing the tree, still following behind the guard who led the way with rigid purpose, and Rose reached up to touch the brilliant red foliage, fingers spread wide. The leaves felt cool and crisp, their undersides velvety and slightly paler than the tops. The Doctor had opened his mouth in retort, ready to stage a defense of his dignity when the look on her face caught his breath, and he smiled. As they continued past the tree and she dropped her hands, The Doctor reached out his own, and she took it.

* * *

They were led to a richly appointed room boasting massive floor-to-ceiling windows that displayed the glorious city skyline of Catalonia. They were the only people there, save two men who stood guard at the double doors opposite the ones they'd entered the room from. The Doctor sat, casually sprawled back in an elegant armchair with his hands clasped behind his head and his right foot resting on the opposite knee. Rose, for her part, stood before the windows, captivated by the darkening lavender sky and the ghost of moon slowly growing more visible in the waning light. She watched ships of various shapes and sizes entering the atmosphere in a blaze of white-hot light or exiting with the astounding speed and agility necessary to escape the gravitational pull.

The Doctor watched her for some time, perhaps a little amazed that someone could just stand and look out the window for that long. So much of his life he'd spent climbing out the window and finding trouble in all the myriad places it lay. The universe was a marvelous and infinitely compelling place, no question, but he found that much of his appreciation for those wonders had gone; devoured by the war and his resultant pathological need to outrun its horrors. He suddenly felt so very old; ancient in his bones and more than a little lost. As the minutes ticked by, not a single one unmarked by his innate sense of time, he slowly began to watch the sky, to try to see what he saw. Then, without much thought, he gradually sat upright, got to his feet, and crossed the room to stand next to his companion.

"How many moons are there?" she asked, as he stepped up beside her. The outline of a second, smaller moon had just begun to show in the opposite side of the sky from the first. Her eyes were wide, all-seeing. He turned his attention to the great window, just as a freighter reached the atmosphere in a blaze of light.

"Three" he said, "But this time of year, you won't see the third until just after midnight."

"It's incredible," she breathed, and The Doctor didn't respond. Arms crossed, he stared out into the deepening dark, something deep inside secretly hoping to find even half what she seemed to. It was beautiful, he'd grant it that, but before he could dwell much further on the matter, something caught his eye; or, rather, a number of things. In an instant, scores of atmospheric entry burns flickered and jumped to life all across the sky. He stepped closer to the window, brow creased in concern, angling for a better view, but wherever The Doctor looked he saw the points of flickering light.

"What is that?" Rose asked, angling for a better view herself, "'S everywhere." The Doctor didn't answer right away, but inwardly acknowledged that she was quite correct. They were everywhere, and the most disturbing part was the precision of their spacing. The lights stretched infinitely across the sky in a constant, grid-like pattern. As the ships gained the lower atmosphere and slowed, the fires flickered and faded to reveal massive cylindrical ships, each boasting four glowing boosters and four claw-like landing struts.

"Doctor?" Rose asked, and he finally broke his attention from the incoming fleet to look at her. She looked concerned, and rightly so, but he was surprised at how little fear he saw.

"Judoon," he said, turning back to the window again, "It's a fleet of Judoon."

"And what are Judoon, exactly?"

"Police," he said, before correcting himself, "Mercenary police."

"Oh. Well, that's not so bad, is't? They must be responding to the alert."

"I'm pretty sure they are the alert." Just as he spoke, they heard the massive silver doors open, and Rose and The Doctor both turned to see a very dignified woman who appeared to be in her fifties flanked on either side by a handful of men and women. All were in business dress, but the woman out front wore a red sash across her chest. Rose darted a glance to The Doctor, watching his behavior closely.

"Madame president," he inclined his head as she approached, and Rose did the same, curtsying slightly, just in case.

"Doctor," she greeted perfunctorily, "I'm so glad you've come. My advisors and I, we have some – concerns." The Doctor shot another look out the window as the sound of rockets grew louder and a set of metal feet suddenly appeared just outside the window, followed by the tall, cylindrical body of the craft. The Doctor turned back to president, face grim.

"Think it's gone beyond 'concerning' now."

* * *

"We received this transmission two days ago," President Ibarra explained, standing over the long glass-top conference table. Rose and The Doctor head been led into the cabinet room, surrounded by the President and her cadre of advisors. President Ibarra pressed a button on the table next to the head chair, and the glass display across the room flickered to life. What Rose saw took her aback a moment. She'd never seen a rhinoceros in a space suit before.

"This is Ryko, commander of the thirty-sixth Judoon fleet. We have tracked three fugitive Pituari mercenaries to your planet, and this communication serves as notice that the fleet will arrive in approximately forty-eight hours to sequester your planet. The citizens of your world will be scanned and catalogued until the fugitives are found and their sentences carried out. Should you attempt to hinder our search or be found to be harboring the fugitives, your planet will be destroyed." Rose watched, fascinated, as the humanoid rhino spoke, it's lips moving awkwardly over the words. At the completion of the message, the screen dimmed and Rose looked at The Doctor, shocked into speechlessness. He turned to her, his face knowing.

"Doctor," the President addressed, "What is your counsel?" Just as The Doctor opened his mouth to respond, they heard the doors in receiving room open, followed by the rhythmic march of heavy, booted feet.

"President, tell your men to stand down," The Doctor turned to her, frantic, "Tell them to…" He was interrupted by one guard's voice commanding the approaching Judoon to halt, a statement that was cut short by a pained shout and telling silence. The Doctor squeezed his eyes shut and lowered his head as the second guard shouted in protest and a great clatter arose just beyond the door. Again, those standing in the cabinet room heard an agonized cry followed by grave quiet.

As the doors to the cabinet room swung open and the Judoon commander entered, followed by a score of his 'officers' wearing massive armored helmets, The Doctor signaled everyone to be still.

"I will speak with the designated authority of this world," Commander Ryko, or so Rose presumed, spoke.

"I am President Adriana Ibarra, democratically elected leader of the Spanish colony of Barcelona," President Ibarra stepped forward, firm and calm in her demeanor.

"President Ibarra, I hereby suspend your authority and your world's sovereignty until such time as the fugitives have been captured. The actions taken by your personal guard will be taken into account during our review of your government's involvement in this matter." Everyone in the room was silent, unmoving, as that declaration sank in. Finally, Rose leaned over to The Doctor.

"I think we can safely bump this up to mauve."

* * *

**Footnote:**

"My apartment is infested with koala bears. It's the cutest infestation, ever."

-Mitch Hedberg.


	3. Chapter 3

**Obligatory Disclaimer:** I do not own Doctor Who, and I make no money. Which is unfortunate, because I really want a churro, right now.

**Zlorea:** I know, I am fail. But thanks to you and others who pointed it out, I got it fixed fairly quickly. Here's hoping I don't do it again… **Royslady51:** Too bad Adam Mitchell isn't around, they could have a pet rat. **Ninthsgirl:** Gracias! I was listening to a Mitch Hedberg album and all of a sudden I was all "Oh, I have to." And I'm so glad you find my descriptions broadcast-worthy! **Mauve Guest:** Oh, I suspect he'll get that wonder back. ;)

* * *

"Under what authority do you suspend my duly appointed governance?" President Ibarra asked, polite but unflinching.

"We operate under Article 54 of the Shadow Proclamation to enforce its laws and those of the member planets."

"But we are not a member planet," President Ibarra insisted, "I've never heard of the Shadow Proclamation."

"A warrant was issued by member planet Fuulbark for three Pituari mercenaries."

"And what is their crime?"

"Treason and Conspiracy to Overthrow the government of Fuulbark." Commander Ryko informed, and before anyone could do or say anything further, he approached The President with foreboding purpose. The five advisors flinched, and Rose turned to The Doctor, looking for some intervention, or at least explanation. What she saw was a flash of confusion before he seemed to shake himself out of it.

"Don't resist," The Doctor commanded calmly, "He's going to scan you. He's going to scan all of us."

"What for?" The President asked, eying the Judoon as he stopped inches from her and pointed at cylindrical device in her face.

"The Pituari can camouflage themselves, within reason. Human is one of several species they can pass for, by appearance, anyway." The Doctor explained. Commander Ryko finished his inspection, brusquely grabbed the President's hand and used the large cylindrical device to mark a black "X" across the back of her hand.

"Is this what they're doin'?" Rose asked, softly, "They're gonna scan the entire planet? Millions of people?"

"Billions," The Doctor affirmed, "That's why they brought a full fleet."

"What about you?" her keen hazel eyes, darkened to a chocolaty hue in the ambient light, searched his face. Her mouth opened to complete her thought, but nothing came out.

"The Judoon know me. But it'll take them awhile to figure it out. Jus' – jus' don't do anythin' foolish if they –" The Doctor stopped as a pair of Judoon approached them, scanners in hand. Rose stayed still, glaring into the thin eye slit of the helmet with a combination of indignation and curiosity. The scan was over quickly, and a massive, rough hand grabbed hers and marked the back with an "X". She looked over to see The Doctor was still being scanned, and when the device emitted a rather discouraging chime several seconds later, every Judoon in the room stopped what they were doing and turned to them, raising their weapons.

"Doctor!" Rose cried, take a step toward him, thinking only to place herself between him and at least some of the riled Judoon.

"Don't!" The Doctor insisted, pinning her under the full weight of his gaze, "Don't interfere." He turned his attention to Commander Ryko who had come around the conference table and was now standing a breath away. He lifted his scanner, and Rose watched, heart racing and mind churning, as agonizing seconds ticked by in which the device gave no response, for good or ill. Then, when the same warning buzzer sounded, her rabbiting heart sank.

"Our scanners have failed to catalogue you."

"Then, you know I'm not a Pituari," The Doctor said as evenly as he could, "My name is The Doctor. I'm a known entity by the Shadow Proclamation, but I'm not in your database because my race –" Rose saw him falter, witnessed the sudden shock of guilt and torment on his face, and in that moment she ached for him in a manner she never had her own Doctor. Forced to explain himself, to drag his truth out into the light and give it voice, and not nearly prepared to do so. "My race no longer exists."

"What are you?" Ryko demanded.

"I am…" The Doctor's voice started strong, his gaze was unwavering, but as he made to say the words his mouth gaped and no sound emerged.

"Time Lord," Rose offered without thinking, her voice far more calm than her heart, speaking the words from a depth of love and respect. Even as The Doctor's attention snapped to her, his grey eyes full of pain and gratitude, she didn't hesitate. "He is a Time Lord." Ryko looked from her back to The Doctor.

"Does the human speak the truth?"

"Yes," he said, collecting himself. "I am a Time Lord. The last of the Time Lords."

* * *

Once the Judoon commander and his cohorts had left, the room fell to disbelieving silence. Rose looked long at The Doctor, tall and lean under the leather jacket he bore like armor, hands shoved deep into the pockets and head held low in thought. She had nothing to say, just then, and thought discretion to be the better part of valor. Turning her attention to the others in the room, she watched as President Ibarra, a tall woman in her own right, approached the far window and gazed out. The view of the city and the lights of the Judoon ships surprisingly sharp despite the light inside and the darkness outside.

"Madame President," one of the advisors spoke. He was a young man, perhaps in his thirties with a portly build and cleanly cropped black hair, "We must respond. Call up the army, the-"

"What will they do, Doctor?" The President cut the young man off. Her voice seemed to shake him from his reverie, and he brought his head up.

"They'll scan your citizens, everyone on the entire planet, until they find the fugitives they're after."

"And if they don't?" she asked, turning to face him. Here demeanor was tired but determined, her face worn and creased by the burden of her office. She'd been stunning in youth, Rose could tell, and she very much still was, her black hair shot through with bands of gray and her olive-green eyes were sharp and assessing. "What happens if they don't find them? If they're not here?"

"First, they will attempt to discover whether the Pituari might have escaped," he said, his voice level and devoid of feeling, "If they cannot, if there is no lead as to their whereabouts nor proof that they've gone, they will systematically dismantle every building, burn your forests, and lay depth charges in every lake and ocean on this planet. They will turn everything over until they find them, and if they come up empty, still…"

"What?" the President asked when he didn't complete his thought, "They'll have already destroyed our world, our civilization. What else can they do?"

"Destroy you," The Doctor said, "They will most likely find you guilty of harboring the fugitives and blast this planet to atoms." For a long moment, the President regarded The Doctor.

"Is there anything we can do?" she finally asked.

"Yes!" the stocky advisor cut in, "Call up the Army! The Navy!"

"Yes, and cut right to the chase," The Doctor scolded, "The second your guards raised their weapons, the Judoon executed them. To attack them in any fashion is an immediate death sentence. So, by all means, if you want your planet blown up sooner, call up your soldiers." The young man withered immediately under The Doctor's scathing retort and took several steps back.

"Madame President" a gentleman of advanced age and considerable dignity approached, nodding politely, "May I suggest we issue a stand-down order, immediately?"

"Yes, Señor Palomo," President Ibarra nodded, "Get on the line to Generals Aldana and Machado, advise them of the situation." The older man bowed and hastened out of the room, and the President turned to a young woman of short stature with auburn hair trimmed into choppy pixie cut, "Señora Varela, contact President Felix and advise him not to interfere. He must keep his forces on Madrid and prepare his people for evacuation." The woman nodded her head and left to do as she was bid. Three advisors remained, the young man who'd been so keen to summon the military, a middle-aged woman who looked entirely too fidgety to be reliable in a crisis, and a dark-skinned man of similar age to her with a bald head.

"The rest of us shall work to formulate a plan to keep our citizens calm and prepare a mass evacuation should the opportunity present itself," President Ibarra instructed her remaining advisors before turning to Rose and The Doctor, "Doctor, can I count on your assistance?"

"You can," he said simply, "First thing's first, we need to check the prisons. If the Judoon find the Pituari already locked up, they'll accuse you of not handin' them over."

"Right, but how will we find them if they pass as human?" the President asked. In response, The Doctor pulled the Sonic from his inside jacket pocket and held it up.

"I have my ways."

* * *

The Doctor elected to begin with the smaller local jail. While cell blocks of any type seemed the logical place to look for accused criminals, he thought it likely any mischief the Pituari might have gotten into on Barcelona would be minor, owing to their need to lay low. As such, Rose and The Doctor were escorted downstairs to the car park under the palace by the two guards who'd greeted them at the gate that afternoon. Once there, the four of them loaded into a low, sleek, silvery vehicle that appeared to have no windows. The interior was quite posh, the dash boasting an array of meters, buttons, and switches in shades of yellow, orange, and red. Rose settled herself into the low, body-curved seat in the back next to The Doctor as their escorts claimed shotgun.

The female guard, who'd been introduced to them as Captain Garza, pressed a button and the panels that had allowed them access slid back into place with noiseless precision. Her counterpart, Lieutenant Medina, began pressing buttons alongside her, and the curved metal surface directly in front of them flashed to life, showing the view of the car park where they were, outlined in a border of information from altitude to speed to pitch and yaw. Rose was busy studying the screen when she felt the seat shift and conform under her, the edge of the seat shortening slightly as the back curved more tightly around her. To her left, she saw The Doctor's seat lengthen to accommodate his legs and the back stretch and widen to better fit his shoulders.

After just a few more manipulations by Garza and Medina, Rose felt the vehicle lift slightly and just sort of hover. In seconds, they were off, their path displayed on the screen as a red line cutting through a map of Catalonia in the top right corner. Both guards took their hands off the controls and sat back, monitoring the screen and occasionally reaching out to adjust the camera with palm-sized track ball on the dash, but otherwise remaining still. Rose watched the screen intently, watching the street lights pass by but noticing none of the buildings were illuminated. Instead, they stood as looming blocks of pitch black against the otherwise brilliant night sky.

"You can see the stars," she said, leaning forward in her seat to get a better look.

"Yes," Lieutenant Medina smiled back at her briefly before returning his attention to the controls, "In an effort to conserve energy and reduce light pollution, all buildings are required to shut down at night, and residential structures use refraction filters on their windows to absorb indoor light and prevent it from either escaping or reflecting."

"That's why I could see the city out the window after it got dark,"

"Exactly."

"It's brilliant," Rose mused. She kept watching as they wound through the city. They frequently passed Judoon squadrons marching along the sidewalks, but the rhinoceroid beings seemed to pay them little mind. Fortunately, the citizens of Catalonia, while huddling close together and looking concerned wherever they were, appeared to be remaining calm in the face of this unexpected invasion of their privacy. Finally, the vehicle slowed to a stop and gently lowered itself to the ground. Captain Garza pressed a button and the doors slid back once more, and the occupants climbed out. They were parked outside a moderately large three-story building that appeared just as dark as all those they'd passed. Around it, and around their current position, she saw guard towers much like those that had stood outside the palace.

"No fences?" she asked.

"Energy barriers," Captain Garza said, not looking up from the screen of a small communication device she held in her hand, "Generated by each tower"

"Right," Rose said, somewhat chafed by the Captains dismissive demeanor.

"Ready?" The Doctor had come round the 'car', if it could be called such, and stood next to her. He'd not said a word on the drive over, but Rose instinctively reached out, and the hand that had been clinched tensely at his side opened for her. She squeezed firmly and smiled a gentle smile.

"Let's go find some fugitives."


	4. Chapter 4

**Obligatory Disclaimer:** I do not own Doctor Who. Turns out you can't break into BBC headquarters with just pruning shears, dental floss, and a ski mask.

**Mauve Guest:** Question is, will knowing how close she was to her other Doctor encourage or discourage him? Dun, dun duuuunnnnn. Glad you're still enjoying the story! **TK:** Yes, I will admit I got a bit choked up writing that bit. I mean, really, this Doctor ended up wandering alone quite a bit longer before meeting Rose than the other Nine did. And I'm trying to illustrate all the ways that has manifested itself. And I'm so happy to hear my descriptions are clear and interesting. I've often avoided writing anything sci-fi simply because I doubted I had the creative juice to think up original stuff like this. If it ever gets hokey, please let me know. :D **Royslady:** I'm reasonably sure the Judoon would interpret rounding up billions of potential suspects (even after they're cleared of being Pituari, the whole planet is still potentially on the hook for "aiding and abetting" fugitives) as an interference of their duties. I doubt they differentiate between adults and children in culpability, with their strict black-and-white thinking. Then, planet go boom. **Blue Stone Shining Wolf:** YAY! You caught up! So glad you're enjoying the series. Now you have to wait for updates with the rest. Muahahahaha! Now, get back to work. Ms. Monte needs her Nine fix. :D

* * *

Inside the Catalonia Detention Center, Rose and The Doctor, along with their two escorts, were buzzed through three security checkpoints with little to no fuss. Clearly, someone had phoned ahead. Still, she thought it a bit odd to be allowed inside a jail so freely, minimum security or otherwise. Captain Garza and Lieutenant Medina seemed to pay the matter no mind, however. So, as the final set of interlocking steel doors closed behind them with a shudder of finality, Rose marched on, taking in the primary detention hall. Where she'd expected to see several floors and rows of cells on either side of them, she saw instead a single floor spread out before them like a vacant room.

There were guards in crisp white and gray uniforms stationed at regular intervals along the walls, though she didn't understand who they were guarding or how. Then, as they progressed, she realized that the expanse of the steel floor was broken up at regular intervals by large hexagonal sheets of glass, and as they drew nearer she realized the cells were set into the floor. The first cell they encountered, she gaped at the sight of straight steel walls dropping down some twenty feet to the floor. Inside, two double bunks hung from opposite walls of the hexagon. The prisoners inhabiting this cell, four men in matching navy blue uniforms, were all in various stages of rising from their bunks. They'd interrupted lights-out.

"Attention on the block," Garza announced, "All inmates are to rise and stand at inspection stations." In response, half of the guards placed around the room marched forth with stoic purpose, going down the rows of cells and repeating the orders. Captain Garza turned to The Doctor, "Can you scan them topside?"

"No, I'll need to be closer," he said, withdrawing the Sonic and fiddling with the settings. Rose didn't much like the sound of that, but she kept it to herself. Captain Garza signaled to a pair of guards standing along the wall, and they approached.

"We need to perform in-cell inspections. You will accompany The Doctor in his search of the inmates," she instructed, and both men nodded. Turning to the rest of the room, she bellowed, "Initiate full cell-block lockdown." Instantly, Rose heard three more steel security doors close at the far-flung corners of the detention block.

"Open cell 1-Alpha-1," Lieutenant Medina instructed, and one of the guards who'd stepped forward to accompany them touched a button on the back of one wrist and repeated the instruction. A second later, a discordant chime arose and the glass panel over the cell they were standing beside slid back, seamlessly, into the floor. Simultaneously, the ceiling that had appeared to be a solid expanse of metal lit up with square panel of orange flashing directly above the cell. All four inmates were facing away, hands spread and placed on the wall opposite them. Along the wall directly beneath them, wide slabs of steel began to erupt, one at a time, leading gradually down to the floor of the cell.

As soon as the first few steps had appeared, the two guards started down. Rose looked to The Doctor, uneasy despite the security present. He didn't see her, and instead stepped down into the cell, following the two men. She made to follow, on instinct, but as soon as she'd taken only a couple steps, Captain Garza's hand shot out and grabbed her arm. Rose looked back at her, brow creased in surprise and indignation, to meet the other woman's dark blue glare. She tried to pull her arm away, but the Captain's hand gripped more tightly.

"No civilians in the cells," Captain Garza said flatly.

"I go where The Doctor goes," Rose insisted, finally ripping her arm free, but remaining where she stood, staring the other woman down.

"Not this time," she replied in a tone that brooked no dispute. Her general attitude, not to mention her open disdain, irked Rose like little else. While she wasn't inclined to outright disobey; there were more important matters at hand, after all; she _was_ itching for an argument.

"You realize he's a civilian, too, yeah?" Rose pointed out, crossing her arms and meeting the slightly taller woman head on.

"He's an exception. He's executing a crucial assignment on behalf of the President and the colony of Barcelona."

"And I'm not?" Rose's hackles raised at the inadvertent little smirk that flitted briefly across the woman's lips.

"The Doctor is the only person who can identify these Pituari fugitives," she said, "Your – assistance – is not required." Rose wanted very much to cut her down with a clever come-back, but there was nothing to say. This woman had never met her, didn't know her history, and nothing had arisen, yet, for Rose to prove her worth to this career soldier. Insisting she was a valuable asset without any tangible action to back it up would just look sad and desperate. Luckily, she was saved by The Doctor's return.

"Nothin' here," he announced, and when Rose turned, she planted a pleasant, nothing-to-see-here smile on her face. The Doctor glanced at her, curiously, for a second, sure something was off, but he shrugged it away. "Next cell, than?" he grinned cheerfully to Captain Garza. The woman gave a perfunctory nod and motioned to one of the prison guards who then radioed the request to close the first cell. As their mismatched little group trudged on to the next cell, Rose kept her chin up, determined not to let the Captain get to her.

* * *

"Tired?" Lieutenant Medina asked, nudging Rose's arm as she yawned deeply and shook her head to clear the mental fog. Three hours had passed, and not a single disguised alien rogue had been discovered. The Doctor and the prison guards were down in a cell, nearly the last one in the last row of the top floor of the Detention Center. Rose was standing up top, as usual, with the two palace guards, watching as The Doctor scanned each prisoner individually, waiting for the same sneezing transformation they'd witnessed in Italy.

"A bit," she admitted, "We came directly here from another assignment." It wasn't an assignment, really, just a trip to set things right with Martha, but for the benefit of Captain Garza, 'assignment' sounded much more impressive than 'stopover' or 'jaunt.'

"Only five cells left," Medina smiled. He wasn't half handsome, with square features, dark hair, and olive skin complimenting honey brown eyes. Rose smiled back, a bit surprised she hadn't paid much notice before, and that her sudden recognition of the fact elicited virtually no interest. Ever since divorcing Tom, she hadn't been a bit shy about flirting, kissing, and 'dancing' with any handsome bloke who caught her fancy. She realized she _must_ be tired.

"Yes, and then President Ibarra is escorting us to La Isla Rota," Garza announced, glancing at Rose, "That's our maximum security facility. Perhaps it would be best for you to return to your ship. Get some sleep." Rose was suddenly wide-awake.

"Have you got a problem with me?" Rose asked, turning to face the guard who'd barely spoken a word to her in the last three hours, "'Cause I sense some disapproval."

"Rose, it's fine, she means well," Lieutenant Medina offered.

"'Cept I don't think she does," Rose replied, arms crossed and keeping her gaze firmly on the Captain.

"You are a civilian, a tag-along, and you've no business in these matters, no matter how lovely or funny you may be," Garza replied evenly, "This is my planet, my family, my people on the line. You just keep The Doctor company. What good are you? What do you _do_?" Rose's lips were pressed tightly together, a storm brewing behind whiskey-hued eyes, but she resisted the urge to lash out. She understood, in part, now, Garza's problem. She was proud, strong, clever, capable – and terrified that in spite all that, she might not be able to stop all that she loved from burning. Sure, there was an underlying current of prejudice, there; assuming Rose was just a useless accessory, there only for her looks and her charm. But Rose was old enough and wise enough, now, to understand there was nothing she could say to change that.

A surprised shout echoing from below saved Rose from any need to respond. She turned her head just in time to see red hands the texture of cracked desert earth grab onto the top stair and the body of the prisoner launch effortlessly upward to land, legs already poised to run, on the cell-block floor. Yellow, feline eyes darted between them in less than a heartbeat, and he chose his path, aiming to pass by the person he judged least likely to intercept him. In what seemed like slow motion, she saw his legs flex and push him forward, sprinting just to her left. She saw Medina move to meet him, but as the Pituari reached her, Rose swung her arm out, level with its throat, and watched the flash of panic in its eyes as it saw what was happening but didn't have time to stop.

Rose kept her arm firm and unyielding against the impact, and the Pituari's feet slung out from under it. The mercenary hit the floor flat on his back, instantly coughing and sputtering. Garza and Medina were on him in the bat of an eye, rolling him onto his stomach with ruthless efficiency and pulling his hands behind his back to cuff them. Rose watched, grinning slightly to herself, as The Doctor and the two prison guards reached the top of the cell stairs and looked around in a panic before they spotted their quarry already immobilized on the floor. As Captain Garza stood up and looked at Rose, the shorter girl offered her a quirky but humble smile.

"Nothin' much," she quipped, "Completely useless, I am."

* * *

Attempts to interrogate the Pituari, who appeared female judging by the fine features and slight bone structure as compared to the Pituari Rose had met previously, proved fruitless. Their captive provided no name, no reason for her presence on Barcelona, not so much as a whisper. She just glared up at The Doctor with those intense golden eyes as she sat, hands bound, on a lone chair in an utterly bare interrogation room. Through it all, The Doctor bore an expression of profound concern under the sensible façade he portrayed, and Rose didn't miss it for a second. She could practically hear the wheels turning furiously in his head.

Finally, when it became apparent no answers would come from her regarding who she was and where here accomplices might be, The Doctor sighed and turned away, arms crossed and head lowered. Their hunt wasn't over. He called for the prison guards to come in. Two men in gray and white entered, followed by Garza and Medina. The Captain and the Lieutenant watched with calm detachment as the guards helped the Pituari up from the chair and walked her to face The Doctor. Rose had to respect her a little, then, her chin raised in defiance as she met The Doctor's gaze with unflinching dignity. Not many could stare down The Doctor, even in a fair mood.

"Keep her secure," he commanded, sternly, "And flag down the nearest Judoon patrol _immediately_. Explain that she was disguised, hidden among the general population." The guards nodded shortly and led her from the room. The Doctor watched the door long after they left.

"So, where are her friends? The two other fugitives?" Medina asked, professional but amiable.

"I don't know," The Doctor said, pulling himself from wherever his thoughts lay and turning to face them.

"You don't know?" Garza asked, caught somewhere between disbelieving and accusing.

"She didn't say anythin'," Rose shrugged, "We're not mind readers."

"You were supposed to make her talk," Garza approached them both, standing inches away.

"What would you have me do?" The Doctor's arms were crossed and he leaned forward just slightly, looming over the agitated guard.

"Whatever it takes," Garza insisted, "Find the Pituari, hand them over to these 'Judoon,' prevent the annihilation of seven million people."

"I will find them," The Doctor said, the storm building in his veins belied by the controlled, even tone of his voice, "My way."

"What good is your way when my – when we're all dead?" Garza growled. Just as Rose thought she might need to step in, the sound of a voice clearing behind them took everyone's attention, and they turned to see President Ibarra standing in the door to the interrogation room. Sharp eyes assessed them all for a handful of breaths before she spoke.

"The Pituari has been handed over to the Judoon. In light of our cooperation, Commander Ryko has insisted he accompany us to La Isla Rota to hunt down the remaining fugitives," she paused a moment to let that sink in, "He has assured me they need no assistance locating the Pituari, should they indeed be among the prison population. Still, I request your presence and your counsel in this matter, Doctor." The Time Lord assessed her a moment before nodding briefly.

"Miss Tyler, your assistance has been greatly appreciated, but it has been a long night. You may return to your ship, if you like," The President offered graciously. The suggestion was far more gentle, and sensible, than Captain Garza's had been, and Rose's body craved sleep. Still, she could see the tumult bubbling inside The Doctor. The Captain's allusions to an 'enhanced' interrogation had unsettled him far more than he'd likely admit, and as she saw his mouth open to object she witnessed a certain degree of fear, there. She realized, then, that when he was at his angriest, he was at his most vulnerable. He needed her there, someone to reason with him, to steady him, and, if necessary, to stop him.

"Madam President," Garza put in before The Doctor could, "If I may speak, Miss Tyler has proved quick and capable despite her fatigue. It is my recommendation that she accompany you, as well. Should she so choose." Rose glanced at the soldier standing behind her, though the other woman kept her eyes on the President, and despite her general shock at the endorsement, Rose didn't' miss a beat as she turned back to President Ibarra.

"Oh, I so choose," she stated, matter-of-factly. The Doctor snorted a laugh and she was encouraged to see his lips quirked in a sideways smile as he looked down at her.

"You would."


	5. Chapter 5

**Obligatory Disclaimer:** I do not own Doctor Who. But I have eBay alerts set up.

**Royslady:** Pretty much. Separate Nine from his Rose and be prepared to have the whole of time and space come crashing around your ears. **Ninthsgirl:** The girl is definitely cool and calm under pressure. Gotta love it! **Mauve Guest:** People do frequently underestimate her, but sometimes that works to her advantage. I like how she's learned to let her actions do the talking. **Lady Dunla:** Thanks so much for dropping a note! I understand. I don't always write reviews, even on fics I like. Not that I'm lazy or think it's beneath me, I just have so little time to read and I'm spending so much time writing this series that, if a story seems to be getting a healthy number of reviews already, I tend to give my props by following or favoriting. Still, always glad to hear people are enjoying it! **Blue Stone Shining Wolf:** Actually, "fixing Martha's timeline" was just that bit where they went back to the hospital to show her the TARDIS and what it can do and explain that she can't tell Rose about any of it. I didn't write the actual conversation, just let it drop with Martha watching the TARDIS dematerialize because in an earlier scene Rose and The Doctor had already agreed on what they had to tell Martha and writing that conversation would have just been redundant. **TK:** I'm really glad you could understand Garza's position. I've kinda been wrestling with how to make her a sort-of antagonist, but with relatable motives. And I'm afraid in this chapter they only just arrive at La Isla Rota. I got a little wordy… :D

* * *

"So, out with it, then," Rose spoke low, her head turned toward The Doctor, "What's wrong?" They'd been loaded into a massive, sleekly lined silver aircraft that boasted four pivoting jet engines. Inside, there were widely spaced rows of seats, nearly identical to those they'd seen in the car earlier that night. Only, these seats were fully lined with some manner of transparent, climate-controlled cushion that felt just heavenly the minute Rose sat down. The Judoon commander, Ryko, along with a handful of his leather and armor clad officers had taken the seats up front near the President and her five advisors. Medina and Garza had selected seats nearby, keeping an eye on the Judoon in a casual but wary manner. Meanwhile, Rose and the Doctor, much like the class troublemakers boarding a school bus for a field trip, had slunk off to occupy two seats at the very back of the ship.

The craft had just taken off from the Catalonia Detention Center, and they'd been told they had a ten-hour journey ahead of them. Rose had been thrilled to hear it, thinking she'd have the opportunity to get some sleep. However, as she'd settled deeply into the form-hugging seat and closed her weary eyes with a deep, contented sigh, she hadn't missed The Doctor's persistent fidgeting. She felt rather than heard his right foot, which was resting across the opposite knee, twitching with rhythmic precision like a metronome from hell. Reluctantly, she'd turned her head to the right, the air gel cushion shifting smoothly around her neck and head, and opened her eyes. He was sitting there, arms crossed and face blank in concentration, looking down at the floor with unseeing eyes. He took a moment to respond, but finally turned his head to look at her.

"Nothin'," he tried to assure with a weak, watery smile. She was tired, exhausted, even. He could practically smell it on her. Hell, he _could_ smell it on her, wave after wave of melatonin battling for supremacy in her brain. Still, she pursed her lips and quirked an eyebrow at him, and he relented, "Everything."

"Surprise, surprise. Is it to do with the Pituari?"

"Sort of," he sighed heavily and turned his face forward, eyes scanning back and forth over the contingent of Judoon sitting several rows ahead of them.

"Called it."

"I's just… They're runnin' from a warrant issued for trying to overthrow the Fuulbark government."

"Yeah. You think they might be innocent?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. Point is, Fuulbark is the Pituari homeworld."

"Yeah, I remember," she said, and he glanced back at her, "What? I don't have your mighty Time Lord memory, but I'm good. Had to be, in my job. Besides, S'easier to say than Raxacoricofallapatorious."

"You've been to Raxacoricofallapatorious?"

"Once. Before that, I helped stop a family of Raxacoricofallapatorians from trying to blow up the earth and sell it as starliner fuel. The Slitheen they were called."

"How?"

"The Doctor had Mickey hack into the royal navy and launch a missile at 10 Downing."

"Royal Navy?"

"Sorry, my world still had the monarchy, and a prime minister instead of a president."

"But the official residence was still at 10 Downing?"

"Funny enough, yeah."

"So, you blew up your Prime Minister's house," he summed up.

"No, The Doctor and Mickey blew up the Prime Minster's house, Harriet and I cleaned out the cupboard so we'd have a place to ride it out."

"You were in the building?!" The Doctor shifted himself upright, un-crossing his ankle from his knee and facing her more fully.

"Locked inside the cabinet room," she confirmed, "It was barricaded in three inches of steel."

"That's not going to withstand missile attack," The Doctor insisted, his voice pitching up just a bit in his outrage.

"Thus the cupboard," she smiled, "We've lost the point, though. Fuulbark." The Doctor regarded her critically for a moment, a mix of disbelief and disapproval clear on his face. Finally he turned himself forward again and moved on.

"Remember how I said several clans of Pituari are known for their 'unscrupulous freelancing?'"

"Yeah,"

"Well, that's only half the story. Kidnapping, extortion, and murder for hire are the primary economic driver on Fuulbark. The government isn't just permissive of their conduct; it has codified and sanctioned it. The mercenary clans hold a certain prestige and rank in Pituari society."

"What about the rest?" Rose asked. The Doctor looked at her, grey eyes flooded with sympathy.

"All but slaves," he said, "The lower clans have had their rights and privileges curtailed more and more with each generation."

"So, chances are, if these Pituari are guilty…" Rose couldn't complete her sentence, and The Doctor only nodded, "Is it possible they're members of one of the mercenary clans? That, I dunno, they just wanted control of the government?"

"The Judoon said they were here to carry out their sentence. That means the Senate of Fuulbark has already declared the fugitives guilty. If they belonged to one of the upper clans, that wouldn't happen. They would be tried, and even if found guilty, they'd likely get a stern warning and a few years' house arrest."

"That's what's got you upset," Rose said, closing her eyes. If they were innocent, he wouldn't want the Judoon to take them, just on principal. If they were genuinely guilty, it was almost certain they had good reason, "Don't suppose there's any chance of explainin' this to Commander Ryko?" The Doctor shook his head.

"The Judoon are only concerned with the strict letter of the law and its execution. Never mind if it's a corrupt law issued by a corrupt government to oppress its people. They're creatures of blind logic, no capacity for imagination or moral contemplation."

"So, what do we do?" she asked, the automatic assumption that they would be doing something to correct this clear in her voice. As he searched her hazel eyes, dark and clever and determined, he lost himself for a moment and reached out to cradle the graceful line of her jaw in his large, dexterous hand; caressing the rise of her cheekbone with his thumb.

"You sleep," he said, finally coming back to himself and pulling his hand away, "I'll think of somethin'."

* * *

The Doctor looked down at the face of Rose Tyler, deeply asleep with the side of her face squished haphazardly against his shoulder. She was drooling a bit, and every few minutes she would huff or sigh in her sleep and draw his attention back to her. It had been maybe an hour after she'd drifted off that her gradual rightward list had finally ended in her drooping unceremoniously against his arm. He'd instinctively shifted to push her upright again, but when she'd groaned gently and nuzzled her face against the leather, he'd decided it was best to leave her where she was comfortable. He found he didn't mind it one bit, and in his efforts to pay attention to his own movements so as not to wake her, he'd found himself thinking more clearly, his higher-level functions operating with increased efficiency. He almost had something resembling a plan.

Now, they were within a half hour of landing, and though she was still fast asleep, he knew he needed to wake her. Saying her name seemed to have little effect, as she only nuzzled her face more firmly into his shoulder and reached out to curl her arm around his and pull herself closer. Time Lords, with their efficient, highly evolved metabolisms had a core body temperature several degrees lower than humans, and the constant supply of warmth that radiated off her was comforting to a degree that The Doctor found, well, uncomfortable. Smiling ruefully to himself, he grasped her shoulder with his free hand and jostled her gently, saying her name more loudly. She began to murmur in protest, but her head lifted, eyes opening only a little in drowsy confusion.

After looking around a second and yawning heavily, she turned to him, and for a moment she smiled softly, half her face creased with pink sleep lines. He couldn't stop his lips pulling into a mirroring smile any more than he could stop the turning of the worlds. Well, maybe with enough Nitro-9, he mused. That fleeting thought was cut short, though, when Rose seemed to realize for the first time where she was and immediately sat upright, pulling her arm away with an apologetic wince. He ignored the insipient pang of loss that tightened around his twin hearts and pasted a bright, carefree smile on his lips. Rose noticed the telltale drool spot on his jacket and began rubbing at it with her sleeve.

"Sorry, about that," she chuckled, "I was really out, wasn't I?"

"Humans. Sleep your lives away," he quipped, "Now that you've rejoined us, you'll want to see this." The Doctor pressed a button on the armrest of his seat and Rose stopped wiping at his jacket to see a thin, glass panel descend from the ceiling. Once it stopped, the screen lit up with the image of a vast, turquoise ocean moving swiftly beneath the camera and, up ahead, a land mass of some sort. Rose squinted and leaned forward, realizing quickly that she was watching their approach to La Isla Rota.

"The Broken Island," she breathed, her eyes opening wide as it came into greater focus. There were two landmasses to be seen in the distance, separated by a jagged rift, and as they drew ever nearer at their considerable altitude she realized it had been a single, large island at one time. The facing edges of the fissure through which the brilliant sea now flowed matched one another, and between them a steal structure angled through the length of the break, suspended by millions of massive cables secured to the opposing cliff faces. Gradually, their craft slowed and hung for moment above the separated expanses of glistening black rock and the muted gray metal enormity of the prison. Then, the ship began to descend, straight and true, toward the mind-bending structure.

"Those cables are electrified," The Doctor informed, "And the prison hangs ten stories downward, leaving a seven hundred and thirty-eight foot drop to the water below."

"Still, though, someone might survive it."

"The water in the canal's only three foot deep at high tide."

"Maybe not, then," she allowed.

"La Isla Rota is inescapable. The island is nothin' but volcanic rock and glass, and the nearest habitable landmass is two hundred miles to the south."

"Right then, what's the plan?"

"Well," The Doctor's face grew dark, "If we find them, we need to let the Judoon take them. No matter who they are, we can't let Barcelona suffer for this."

"Right, but the Judoon are just gonna execute 'em, aren't they?"

"I don't think they're going to be here," The Doctor leaned closer and spoke low, eyeing the Judoon troops as they began to rise from their seats at the head of the craft.

"Cause they're not really criminals," Rose surmised, smiling.

"Exactly, we got lucky with that one. She got pinched for nicking a few pears from a grocer," his face immediately screwed up in an expression of distaste, "Can't imagine why."

"I know, bananas are far better,"

"Yes! I keep sayin'…" he quickly caught the glint of mischief and mocking in her eyes, "You're havin' me on."

"Just a little," she touched her tongue to her canine, grinning wide, and he rolled his eyes with a brief shake of his head.

"Anyway, point is, it was petty theft. Nothin' to be sent to La Isla Rota for. This place houses murderers, serial arsonists, members of crime syndicates; not shoplifters and jaywalkers."

"So… We just play along, then. Let them search and wait to get back to the mainland to find them ourselves."

"Sort of. Even if we find them ourselves, we still have to hand them over to the Judoon."

"So, we hand them over then find a way to break them out?" Rose was whispering so low now anyone but a Time Lord couldn't have heard her. She felt the soft jostling of the landing struts connecting and lowering slightly under the weight of the craft. The vibrating hum of the engines slowed and ceased.

"More or less," he said back, quickly, as he stood from his seat and offered her a hand up. The doors which lay five or six rows ahead of them were unsealed and opened, and Rose and The Doctor waited patiently as the Judoon filed out first, marching with inexorable purpose. The President and her advisors exited, followed by Medina and Garza, leaving The Doctor and his companion last. As they stood in the open doorway a second, gazing out onto the tarmac and the gargantuan cables that secured the facility to the cliff walls, glinting sloe black in the morning sun.

"Ready?" The Doctor asked, offering his hand. Rose gave him that cunning smile and took it.

"Always."


	6. Chapter 6

**Obligatory Disclaimer:** I do not own Doctor Who. Maybe Costco? Does a time/spaceship that's bigger on the inside than the outside count as "bulk?"

**BelindaDuvessa:** Yeah, sorry about that :S It's difficult checking words my spellcheck marks as wrong no matter how they're spelled. And when they're… just _everywhere_ in a document. But I will try harder next time, I promise! Maybe not _this_ time, it's 11:00pm, and I'm tired… **Mauve Guest:** Thank you! I sorta loved the "class troublemaker" analogy, too. **Blue Stone Shining Wolf**: I know, and it might seem a little weird that he's attached so soon, but then in the canon, it's the same damn thing. By episode 4 he was actively afraid of losing her, unwilling to just blow stuff up willy-nilly (otherwise one of his favorite pastimes) to defeat the Slitheen even though they were just going to blow everything up and kill them all, anyway. SO glad you like that whole sleeping scene, though! We all need a little injection of "SQUEEEEE" in life. :D

* * *

"Well, I've finally seen a dog with no nose," Rose said under her breath, leaning toward The Doctor as her gaze remained fixed on the creature in question. It certainly had the general form of a canine, two feet tall at the shoulders with the deep chest and athletic lines of a greyhound. The fur was shaggy and cream colored with the wiry texture of a wolfhound, and the paws in relation to the slim legs were enormous. The curious bit was the head. The animal had huge ears that stood erect like those of a fox, and the forehead sloped down over two stunningly green eyes and extended out into a relatively short muzzle, like a St. Bernard's, which was open at the moment to display distinctively canine-looking teeth and a dark indigo tongue lolling out to one side as it panted heavily.

Where one would expect to see the soft, slightly damp and highly sensitive black patch that was a nose in Earth dogs, she saw instead a cluster of dozens of miniscule pores nestled among the shorter cream fur, two lines of which extended up either side of the muzzle, ending just shy of where those keen eyes rested. The dog in question was standing at alert next to a prison warden in similar grey and white garb to those they'd seen in Catalonia. The guard held her canine on a short leash, and it walked alongside her with a subtle grace and subdued strength that Rose found mesmerizing. It was a gorgeous, if startling creature.

"How does it breathe?" she asked, utterly fascinated, "Through those tiny little holes?"

"No, those are electroreceptors," The Doctor answered softly. They were walking along a row of sunken honeycomb-shaped cells, following Commander Ryko and his Judoon as they commenced searching the prisoners. "Pick up the miniscule electric pulses given off by muscle contractions."

"Like sharks?" she finally tore her eyes away from the prison dog and looked up at The Doctor.

"Exactly. Unlike earth, Barcelona is still undergoing a period of relatively high volcanic activity. The atmosphere carries a near constant charge, too slight for humans to notice much, but it allows predators like the phantom hound to detect fluctuations in that electric field created by living things."

"So… how does it breath?"

"Through its mouth," he shrugged, "Valves at the back of the throat allow air into the lungs. 'S why they're always pantin'."

"But they can't smell, then?"

"'Course they can. Taste and smell are connected. The tongue has highly sensitive receptors, it sort of tastes the air, detects all the chemicals you and I would interpret as scent."

"That's mad, that is," she mused.

"Not so much. Your sense of taste is largely based on smell. 'S why everythin' tastes like soggy bread when you've got a cold," He smiled. Up ahead, the group had stopped and Rose and The Doctor watched from their place at the back of the procession. Ryko was discussing something with the guards who were in attendance, escorting them through the prison. Ten floors of a hundred and fifty cells each. Nearly six thousand prisoners all told. Even with six Judoon and one Time Lord, it was going to take all day. Finally, Ryko looked toward them and called The Doctor forward. He and Rose looked at one another briefly before stepping forward. It was going to be a very long day.

* * *

Four hours in, and Judoon and human alike were growing irritable. They'd worked their way through the high profile section of the prison first, where all of the inmates were required to be physically restrained within the cell in order to carry out the inspections. It was tedious work, even checking seven cells at a time. They were escorted by dozens of guards, none carrying more than a retracting baton. It was understandable, given that they didn't want any serious weapons falling into the hands of the prisoners. Still, it did little to soothe Rose's nerves every time she watched The Doctor descend into one of the cells.

They were now in the regular confinement area, which encompassed the bottom seven floors, and they still had six more to go. Rose kept her chin up, catching a word with The Doctor whenever she could. She was trying to gather the details on his plan, but it soon became clear he was counting pretty heavily on not finding the remaining two Pituari on La Isla Rota. Without immediate access to the TARDIS, it would take them a minimum ten hours before they could pursue the Judoon and free the prisoners. By then, they would surely have confirmed their identities with the Senate of Fuulbark and carried out the sentence.

"What about the one we already found?" Rose asked as they descended a flight of stairs to the next floor.

"Until they've found them all, they'll keep her alive for questioning," he replied grimly, and Rose had nothing to say in return. Now, she stood at the top of yet another hexagonal cell in a vast steal sea of identical detainment cells, lost in thought. It seemed such a massive task, searching an entire planet, six billion people, for three chameleoning aliens. Even with a force as large as that of the Judoon, the practicality of such a task seemed highly questionable. Not that it signified. The Judoon were here, and they wouldn't stop until they found the Pituari. These were the circumstances they had to work with.

Rose returned her attention to the scan going on below. Two prison guards stood at attention, one with a phantom hound standing alert at his side. The Doctor had just reached the last inmate, and Rose watched as he pointed the glowing blue Sonic toward the man's head for several minutes. When there was no reaction, he disengaged the Sonic and tucked it into his inside jacket pocket. As they'd done a hundred times already, the guards and The Doctor turned toward the stairs, toward where Rose and Captain Garza and Lieutenant Medina stood waiting for them. Then, as the second inmate from the left spun around, Rose's heart sank.

"Doctor!" she shouted, and he turned on instinct, just in time to catch the other man's advancing fist in one hand and drive his opposite elbow down on the inmate's collarbone. The gauntlet was thrown, however, and the three other inmates sprang on the opportunity like hyenas on wounded wildebeest. Rose was sprinting around the perimeter of the cell before she even knew what she was doing, and she heard Garza shouting at her as she leapt off the ledge aiming for one of the bunks below. The fall felt like forever, her attention split between her intended landing spot and the rapidly deteriorating situation inside the cell. The instigating inmate was down, clutching his shattered collarbone, but one guard had already been knocked unconscious and a prisoner had taken his baton and was savagely beating the hound every time it tried to turn and attack. One man was wrestling the other guard for his baton, and the fourth prisoner had succeeded in getting The Doctor in a headlock while he'd been incapacitating the first.

Rose's feet hit the bunk with a lurch, and it gave way beneath her. She was deposited clumsily onto the bunk below and she rolled off it and onto her feet in one fluid motion. The frantic cries of the guard dog had ceased, and as the inmate paused briefly over its still and bloody form, Rose deftly yanked the baton out of his hand and, before he could react, held it across his throat, securing the end in the crook of her elbow and pulling with all her strength, one knee dug brutally into his lower back. His arms thrashed backward, grasping for purchase, and she ignored the blunt, sweaty fingertips that grazed her head and face. Yanking harder, she turned her head to check on The Doctor, and the haze of wrath washed over her.

He was on his knees, now, one hand trying to pry the steely forearm away from his jugular while the other clung in the inmate's hair, desperately trying to get enough leverage to flip the larger man over his back. His face was scarlet, his teeth gritted in pain, and Rose felt the flames of rage build as the inmate grasped desperately under the collapsed bunk and withdrew a rudimentary shiv. Rose yanked the prisoner in her grasp sideways, spinning him violently to the floor and stepping over his prone form as he coughed and spasmed beneath her. The inmate holding The Doctor had the makeshift blade clutched firmly in his hand, aimed straight for the exposed side of his neck, and just as he drew back to plunge it in, Rose reached him and brought the baton crashing against his temple.

The man was stunned, and he lowered the arm with the shiv, but didn't immediately let go. So, she swung again on the backhand, barely pausing for a full heartbeat, and watched his head snap back and both arms go limp as he collapsed to the floor. The Doctor fell to his hands, and Rose spun around, adrenaline burning through her veins and brain rapidly assessing the state of affairs. Garza and Medina, alongside two prison guards had reached the cell floor. They had the situation well in hand, detaining the prisoners and seeing to the injured guards. It took a moment for the tide of rage to subside and for Rose to notice Medina and Garza were both standing there, staring at her. Medina looked almost fearful. Garza, cautious, but fully understanding.

Taking a deep breath, Rose looked down and saw a couple drops of blood on the floor beneath the baton held in her trembling hand. She dropped it, instantly, and turned back to The Doctor, falling to her knees beside him. His head was down, still supporting himself on his hands as he coughed and spat on the floor. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, burying her face between his shoulder blades. Before long, the coughing subsided, and she felt his hand, cool and rough curl over hers as she gripped his shoulder. She lifted her head immediately and helped him to a sitting position. His face was still a bit pink, but he tilted his head back and breathed deeply before moving to gain his feet. Rose stood as well, giving him his space but ready to intervene if he wobbled. He did stay bent over a moment, supporting himself on his knees, before he looked up at her and righted himself completely, his expression unreadable.

"Rose, what the hell were you thinking?" he asked, and while it was clearly intended to scold, there was a genuine lack of comprehension in his voice, "Don't ever do something that stupid, again."

"Yeah, I'll remember that next time you're about to get shanked," she dismissed, forcing a crooked smile, but when his hand shot out to grab her elbow her smile faded and she looked into his eyes, the ominous dark blue of a thunderhead.

"I mean it, Rose. I can survive things you can't. Even if I…"

"I know what happens!" Rose shot back, and if The Doctor was thunder incarnate, she was the lightening. "I know what happens," she repeated, more quietly, "And maybe I'm not ready for it just yet." If she'd intended to stun him, she'd succeeded, and as he struggled for an answer she pulled her arm free and walked away.

"Come on," she said over her shoulder, "We're not done, yet."

* * *

In the end, The Doctor had been correct. Fifteen hundred cells later, there were no Pituari to be found. This had caused no small degree of outrage and accusations from the Judoon. As field reports from around the planet had trickled in throughout the day, all coming back with no sign of the fugitives, Commander Ryko grew increasingly impatient, and when their eleven hour search of La Isla Rota turned up nothing, he'd begun accusing President Ibarra, her advisors, and even Rose and The Doctor of impeding their search. It had taken all of President Ibarra's considerable tact and The Doctor's flawless logic to placate Ryko, at least for the time being. When one of Ryko's officer's suggested they run a second sweep of the entire prison, Rose cringed.

"What about derelict buildings?" Rose asked, panicking at the thought of spending another half day on The Broken Island. The Judoon had turned and looked at her is though surprised she could speak, "Back on the mainland, I mean."

"She has a point," Garza threw in, "Depending on the resources they had when they fled, they could easily have hidden themselves among the homeless. The one Pituari we found was accused of stealing food, after all."

"How long ago was the warrant issued?" The Doctor asked, arms crossed and leaning back against the wall inside the prison warden's office where they'd all gathered. He'd not spoken much to Rose since the near-riot, and she now stood several feet away, resigned to allowing him his space to stew.

"Seventy-eight hours ago," Ryko replied, rather proudly, "It took us only six hours to discern their location, and we immediately served notice of our impending arrival."

"And it only took you two days to muster an entire battle fleet?" The Doctor asked, his brow furrowed in blatant skepticism.

"We are Judoon," Ryko said, and Rose almost chortled at the way he puffed out his chest. After strangling one inmate and bludgeoning another, suddenly an imperious, bipedal Rhinoceros wearing a leather battle skirt was funny again. The Doctor rolled his eyes and pushed off from the wall, approaching Commander Ryko with all the confidence of a righteous Time Lord.

"Yes, well, that's very impressive," he said as he stopped beside Rose, and she prayed the Judoon didn't understand sarcasm, "But the Pituari you're looking for are not here. Fugitives generally hide, and even if they were so inclined to blow their cover by seeing how many major felonies they could commit, seventy-eight hours is hardly enough time to get arrested, tried, and sentenced to a super-max facility."

"I'm sure if you tried hard enough…" Rose muttered, earning a wry look from The Doctor. For several moments, no one spoke. The Doctor well understood a soldier like Ryko. He needed to feel respected and in control. The decision to return, ultimately, had to be his. Finally, after a staring match with The Doctor that would have cowed a lesser being, Commander Ryko made his decision.

"We return to Catalonia."

* * *

"We really should have taken the TARDIS," Rose said, stretching her arms out above her head and arching her back. They had finally landed on the grounds of the Presidential Palace and disembarked. No matter how comfortable the seats, she wasn't accustomed to sitting that long. It was long since dark, and in the lights of the Judoon ship parked outside the Presidential Palace, Rose saw The Doctor grinning rather smugly, hands clasped behind his back.

"What?" she asked, "Was I droolin' again?" While she hadn't been quite tired enough to sleep when they'd first boarded the craft to return to Catalonia, she had managed to catch a brief nap a couple hours before they landed. She hadn't tipped over on him again, and she was grateful for that. The Doctor had felt oddly bereft.

"You like the TARDIS better," he beamed.

"The TARDIS _is_ better," she said, plainly.

"The HRG Class 87 we were just on is one of the most stylish, comfortable, and advanced ships in the galaxy at this time."

"And the TARDIS is the best ship in the universe at any time," she insisted with blithe confidence, "Too bad she has such a rubbish pilot." _That_ wiped the smile off his face.

"Oi!" The Doctor protested, but before they could bicker any further, President Ibarra approached them and they sobered up.

"Doctor, Commander Ryko informs me he has directed his – men – to search the homeless shelters, derelict buildings, and churches of Barcelona. So far, they have met with no luck. He is – agitated. I've begged his patience in permitting Captain Garza and Leiutenant Medina to accompany you on a wider search. There are several women's shelters whose locations are kept in strict confidence by the church. I'm afraid I must ask your companion's particular aide in this matter."

"You can ask her yourself," he said, his tone was gentle in its implicit chastisement. President Ibarra smiled.

"Of course. My apologies Señorita Tyler," the much taller woman looked her in the eye, and Rose refrained from correcting her, "There are a number of shelters maintained by the Sisterhood of The Valiant Heart. Their safehouses are guarded by the church, and under no circumstances are men permitted entrance. Commander Ryko has grudgingly acquiesced to allowing Garza and yourself to search these facilities for the Pituari. I hate to ask this of you, but…"

"Madame President," Rose interrupted, smiling, "This is what I do."

* * *

**Footnote:** Really sorry for the late update. I struggled a bit with the action scene. Then I got mesmerized by a YouTube video of two Swedish guys trying to make a cake while hooked up to an electrical muscle stimulating device. Damn you, YouTube!


	7. Chapter 7

**Obligatory Disclaimer:** I do not own Doctor Who. Or The Doctor. If I did, I wouldn't be here barking at the internets.

**LadyDunla: **I'm so glad every time people say these feel like they could be actual episodes! I mean, obviously that's what I'm going for, but it's awesome to know I'm succeeding. **Hibariheza:** It was, very interesting… Anyway, glad you're enjoying the episodes, and thanks so much for keeping with it! **Blue Stone Shining Wolf:** You are correct! Snakes "taste" the air. I thought it a fascinating why to explain how a species of dog functions without a nose when we're used to our dogs relying so heavily on their sense of smell. So I borrowed a bit from snakes and sharks. Fun with science*! **Royslady51:** I confess, I am so very lost at the moment… **Mauve Guest:** I know, I absolutely love how he had such respect for her, besides just trusting her. Granted, he still got irritated when she "wandered off," but boy if he didn't just think the world of her mind. **TK:** You are totally correct, The Doctor didn't know until that point that Rose even knew about regeneration. That's exactly what that little plot device was for. A segway to that inevitable conversation. I'm so very sneaky… Let me have my delusions. :D And I know what you mean, it was really hard to write the scene with the dog, but the scene needed to be realistic and the phantom hound was, by far, the biggest threat to the prisoners.

* "Remember, kids. The only difference between 'screwing around' and 'science' is writing it down." –Adam Savage

* * *

After receiving detailed instructions on how to use the Sonic Screwdriver to detect the Pituari; and an even lengthier lecture on not getting herself taken hostage, wounded, or killed by a desperate interstellar fugitive; Rose and Captain Garza had set themselves to their delicate mission. Leaving The Doctor and Lieutenant Medina waiting outside, they first visited a massive silver cathedral where one of the Sisters reluctantly led them through an intricate system of subterranean passages to the first shelter. It had had been full, each available cot occupied by human and alien women alike. Often, many of the occupants were children fleeing untenable situations alongside their terrified mothers. Thus far, their search had proven fruitless, both at the cathedral and at the second location, housed in the top three floors of an office building that had been falsely marked off as 'under construction.'

Now, they were working their way through a complex built under an abandoned homestead some ten miles outside Catalonia's city limits. Amidst the noise and confusion, Rose systematically scanned each and every one of the already frightened women and children. She had done her best to detach, to get the job done as quickly and efficiently as possible given the deadline imposed upon them by Commander Ryko, but it wasn't easy. Her heart clinched a little tighter each time she approached a woman who wouldn't meet her gaze, or a child who stared up at her with wide, startled eyes. She'd not missed the cloud hanging over Captain Garza's already cheerless personality. Theirs was grim work, and as Rose went to each cot, the Sonic feeling so heavy and strange in her hand, she became increasingly concerned with their lack of ability to find the Pituari.

Rose was growing desperate. As each minute passed, and as each scan came back negative, her frustration multiplied. It had become more than Barcelona, more than a vibrant colony on the edge of the galaxy unjustly threatened by a race of megalomaniacal safari attractions. It was about three nameless aliens who were, in all likelihood, victims of a cruel regime, who'd risked everything to change their world for the better and had failed, fleeing to an utterly foreign planet and subsequently becoming the subject of an interstellar manhunt. They were being driven to ground, and Rose was wholly fixated on finding them first. They had to hand them over to the Judoon, they had no choice, but all she wanted was a chance to speak to them, to let them know The Doctor would do everything in his not inconsiderable power to make things right. She wanted the chance to give them hope before they were taken.

They'd made it through almost three quarters of the shelter's cots, and Rose and Captain Garza had reached a mother and teenage girl, presumably her daughter, clinging tightly to one another. By this point, Rose's mind was a distracting tumult of abject worry and circuitous obsession, and she hardly registered the pair as she pointed the Sonic Screwdriver and pressed the button. Within seconds of the blue end illuminating and issuing forth the selected frequency, the woman's eyes grew wide and she sneezed violently. Instantly, all distraction vanished from Rose's mind, and as the hairless crimson head raised and intense golden eyes met hers, she couldn't help the relieved, triumphant smile that spread across her face. Unfortunately, it also rendered her unprepared for the right hook that landed her square on her ass.

Rose's head swum in momentary disorientation as a sharp pain bloomed from her mouth, her bottom lip throbbing fiercely. Garza had already grabbed the Pituari who was struggling wildly as the Captain tried to restrain her. For a moment, the girl, still appearing very much like a blonde human teenager, stood frozen in fear, watching as her mother fought capture. When the elder woman shouted 'run' the spell was broken, and the girl darted past the otherwise engaged guardswoman and sprinted down the aisle. Rose was already scrambling to her feet when Garza shouted her name, and she took off after the fleeing alien. Residents of the shelter kept back, watching in stunned silence as the chase wound its way through the aisles of cots.

The girl was incredibly fast, much faster than Rose, and when she saw the Pituari wind right, Rose took a bit of a shortcut, hurdling over cots and dodging past startled nuns and fascinated children in an effort to head the teenager off. Once they were in the open stretch of another aisle, however, the Pituari negated all the ground Rose had gained, and as they neared the entrance to the stairwell that would bring them topside, Roses' lungs were starting to burn. Still, she barreled through the fire door immediately after the girl, and launched herself up the stairs two at a time. It was a miracle she didn't trip herself before finally catching up to the Pituari only two landings from the top, wrapping an arm firmly around the alien's slim waste just as she was about to sprint up the next flight.

The Pituari cried and thrashed about, but Rose held tight, gasping for breath and sweating like a recovering alcoholic touring the Guinness distillery. The girl started clawing at her arm, and Rose cringed at the pain, but still didn't let go. Leveraging her weight as best she could, Rose lifted the girl slightly and turned her away from the stairs. In response, the Pituari rained heel-kicks on her shins, and Rose set her down and grabbed the girl's shoulders, turning her around to face her. When the terrified blonde landed a true kick to Rose's already tender shins, she stifled a groan before gripping the slim shoulders more tightly and shaking her once.

"Stop it!" Rose pleaded, shaking her once more, "I'm not here to hurt you, just stop!" She was rewarded with fingernails down her face. Rose closed her eyes at the assault, and kept them shut to gather her patience. Finally, she looked up to see the girl had shifted to her natural state. Wild, terrified yellow eyes stared back at her, skin the color of rich red clay divided like dried-out mudflats, the lines and patterns oddly fascinating.

"Please," Rose said firmly, and something in her eyes or her voice finally stilled the struggling girl, "I swear I'm here to help if I can, but I need you to trust me." She searched the Pituari's eyes for endless seconds, but the girl didn't speak. "I'm Rose. What's your name?" The girl looked wary, tired, and nearly feral, but as the cat-like pupils darted over Rose's face, she seemed to come to a decision.

"Caffa," she said, grudgingly, "And you cannot take us. We cannot go back."

"We know," Rose said, firmly, "Well, we guessed. But, Caffa, we can help you."

"Who is this 'we?'" Caffa asked, instantly tense.

"My friend, he's called The Doctor. He knows about your people, your world. He can help, but you need to trust us."

"Why should I?" she demanded. Rose looked her over, a knowing sorrow heavy on her face.

"Because you haven't got a choice," she said, and for the first time she felt the sting of tears behind her eyes, and she couldn't stop one or two falling, "We have to turn you over to the Judoon." She was forced to tighten her grip as the teen began to struggle, "Caffa! They will destroy this planet," Rose insisted, and the Pituari stilled.

"Why?"

"Because they won't stop. They won't stop until they find you, and if they don't find you, they'll incinerate an entire planet to see you executed. Six billion people, Caffa," Rose took a chance and let go the girl's shoulders. When she didn't try to bolt, Rose continued, "You're not murderers, Caffa, and you don't deserve to die. If you just trust me, we can save your family. We can save you and six billion others. Please. It's the only way."

* * *

Rose stood outside the abandoned farmhouse, surrounded by miles of wild-growing barley, and watched, wordlessly, as Ryko's officers escorted Caffa and her mother onto one of the Judoon ships. The Doctor stood next to her, just as grim, and if he saw the lone tear that trailed down her cheek, he didn't mention it. The Commander had thanked them, and President Ibarra, for their cooperation, and it had taken everything Rose had to refrain from dressing him down in true Tyler fashion. Even now, her hands were clinched at her sides, and as the doors closed and the boosters ignited, Rose stared at the Judoon ship as though she could bring it down through sheer force of will. As soon as the noise of the rockets diminished to a level that allowed him to speak, The Doctor turned to Rose.

"Is everything ready?" he asked, and Rose nodded once.

"I slipped the transponder in her pocket and told her to maintain her human face as long as she could."

"Good, that should buy us some time."

"Doctor," President Ibarra addressed, approaching them, "On behalf of the colony of Barcelona I would…"

"Sorry, no time," he said curtly, taking Rose's hand and marching past. Rose didn't bother turning back to see the stunned look on the president's face, instead matching The Doctor's pace as he led her toward the car that had brought them to the derelict farmstead. If anyone intended to stop them from taking the vehicle, they were too stunned to speak up. As they neared, The Doctor drew out his Sonic and pointed it toward the car, and the doors shifted smoothly open. Rose took her seat, in the front this time, while The Doctor went around and got in on the other side. Within seconds, he had the doors shut, the seats adjusted and the driving display up.

"You can drive this thing?" Rose asked, unnecessarily, as the vehicle lifted from the ground.

"Of course," he dismissed, taking his hands off the controls as the car took over and digging through one of his pockets to produce something resembling an old portable television. He extended two rabbit-ear antennae and handed the device over to Rose who took it with a questioning look. "Use those two knobs to try and dial in the transponder signal. Once you've got it, we should have audio from wherever the Pituari are."

"Nifty," she shrugged, gradually turning the two dials situated on either side of the screen, "A bit – retro – but nifty."

"Bein' older doesn't make it useless," he defended, "I've made a lot of modifications, there."

"Is there anything electrical you _won't_ tinker with?" she teased.

"You know your lip's bleeding?"

"Yeah, yeah," Rose dismissed, concentrating on the device. They reached the city proper in less than ten minutes, and by then Rose had just managed a clear signal, or as clear a signal as she could get. Much of the audio was faint and desperately scratchy, but they managed to gather that the Judoon were thus far unsuccessful in commanding the Pituari to assume their natural form. Rose smiled to herself.

"'Atta girl, Caffa," she whispered.

"Excellent. The Pituari authorities can't identify them in an assumed form, not visually. Eventually, the Judoon will be forced to take a DNA sample and match it against Fuulbark's criminal database."

"Will they hurt them?" Rose asked. He smiled at her, that honest, sincere smile he so rarely used.

"No, they'll take a blood sample, no more than a drop. Point is, the analysis will take some time. The genetic sequence of higher life forms, especially shape changers, is immense."

"Right. How long before we reach the TARDIS?"

"Just aboooooout… _now_."

* * *

"Now, under no circumstances can we be seen. The Judoon aren't great at identifying individuals of other species, but Ryko's been around us enough to recognize us, and he knows we were operating under the authority of the president." The Doctor was racing around the control panel, adjusting dials here and flipping switches there. They'd not left, yet, as Rose stood nearby still monitoring the receiver.

"Got it," Rose confirmed, "So, what's the plan."

"The samples have been taken, right?"

"Yes," Rose confirmed, "Now it sounds like they're bein' led somewhere."

"Fantastic!" The Doctor crowed, "Holding cells. They'll be under lock-down until the results come back"

"How's that fantastic?"

"The Judoon are nothin' if not thorough. Those detainment rooms are completely sealed off. One carbon reinforced blast door, no windows."

"What, no cameras?" she asked, and The Doctor paused long enough to grin at her as he dodged around to the monitor, pulling out his Sonic.

"I hook this up to the TARDIS's field generator and every electronic device within two hundred feet shorts out." As he spoke, Rose watched him pull one of the dozens of nondescript black cords that littered the console and secure it to the Sonic Screwdriver, "First stop, engine room!"

"Engine room?" Rose glanced up, "Why the engine room?"

"Cause I'm gonna to trigger a catastrophic meltdown in the reactor core," he was grinning maniacally as he orchestrated the TARDIS's harrowing flight.

"Won't that, I dunno, blow up the ship?"

"Exactly!" he was concentrating on the monitor, now, carefully gauging their landing, "Don't you see, Rose? It's the only way they'll stop. It's not enough to free the Pituari. If the Judoon know they've escaped, they'll never stop hunting them, and we'll be doin' this again in a week."

"What about the Judoon, though?" Rose asked, " I mean, I'm not over fond of them, but they don't deserve to get incinerated."

"They're traveling in battle formation. They've got a fleet of three hundred thousand ships, and they should have DNA confirmation in…" The Doctor looked at his watch, "five minutes. As long as the captives' identities are confirmed before the meltdown warning sounds, the Judoon will evacuate on the rescue shuttles and leave the Pituari behind."

"That's a bit inhumane," Rose screwed up her nose.

"To them, it's efficient," with that, he threw down a lever and turned to Rose, "Keep on the receiver, make sure they're alone. Back in a mo'." With that, he darted down the ramp and out the door while Rose stood there, holding the old portable television-turned-transponder-receiver with her mouth gaping open in abandoned protest. As it turned out, it was indeed only a matter of minutes before The Doctor ran back in, and Rose briefly saw the flashing red light and heard the blaring warning signal outside as he opened the door and sprinted in.

"All done?" she asked, cheerfully.

"Ten minutes to critical system failure," he announced, triumphantly. Rose shook her head and returned her attention to the screen.

"I haven't heard any Judoon in awhile. Just the Pituari talking amongst themselves," she informed, "They've just heard the meltdown siren, Doctor."

"I'm afraid they'll have to wait just a bit," he said, concentrating on his controls and calculations more closely than she'd ever seen him, "Their bio-signatures need to stay in the cell until the last possible second. I'm jumping us ahead eight minutes."

"What about us?" Rose asked, "Won't the computer register us and the TARDIS?"

"Judoon technology doesn't recognize the TARDIS as a living being, so as long as we stay inside her, they'll never know we were here."

"So, we're just gonna materialize inside the cell and pick 'em up at the last minute?"

"Pretty much, yeah. I'll need to be ready at the console with the jump coordinates. Rose, I need you to stand at the door and be ready, but try to explain it to them. Wait until the ship starts to shake before you let them in. Got it?"

"Got it," Rose nodded, and she set the receiver on the jump seat before trotting to the door. For several tense minutes, The Doctor worked on adjusting their coordinates, keeping a close eye on the transponder signal, displayed as a flashing white dot on the receiver's screen. Finally, he appeared satisfied.

"Now, Rose," he commanded, and she swung open the door to see three Pituari, all in their natural forms, huddled together in the corner of a small white room. The red warning light was flashing inside the room at regular intervals, and as three sets of golden eyes looked up at her in stunned disbelief, she heard an automated voice announce '_Thirty seconds to total core meltdown_.' She couldn't help but smile. Just in time.

"Caffa," Rose looked at the girl, "We're here. It's time. But you need to listen. We can't take you on the ship until the countdown ends. Get your family up and get ready." All three stared at her for a moment as if she were – well, as if she were a dog with no nose. Eventually, Caffa stood up, much to her mother's protest. '_Twenty seconds to total core meltdown_.'

"Mom, Goa, get up," Caffa instructed, "Get ready,"

"Caffa, this is insane," the other Pituari scolded, presumably 'Goa,' "How can you trust these apes?"

"Would you rather stay here?" Caffa asked. Reluctantly, the other two got to their feet. '_Ten… nine… eight…_' Caffa kept her eyes locked with Rose's

"Ready?" Rose asked, and Caffa nodded. '_seven… six… five…_' "Wait for my signal. The ship will start to shake, be ready for it, and be ready to run," '_four… three… two… one…_' There was a moment, a breath in which nothing happened, and it all seemed very anticlimactic, until the ship began to shudder under their feet and quickly grew to a violent tremor.

"NOW!" Rose shouted.


	8. Chapter 8

**Obligatory Disclaimer: **I don't own Doctor Who. Do they have something like Air B 'n B for TV shows?

Here is the final chapter for this episode. The first chapter of Episode V will be posted on Wednesday:

**Doctor Who: Parallax – Ghosts That We Knew **Rose is called back to Earth to attend a party in honor of Pete regaining his position as head of Torchwood. When a nosy, loud-mouthed temp discovers a dangerous relic hidden inside Torchwood by the previous administration, The Doctor has no choice but to get involved and defeat an old enemy.

**Royslady51**: I can't even imagine Nine tolerating four companions, no matter how big the TARDIS is on the inside. :D **pinklilliflower**: Well, hopefully this chapter lives up to the rest of this episode. There's a little surprise cameo at the end… ;) **Mauve Guest**: *Cringes under baleful glare.* Don't shoot. Yet. Yes, an accurate pilot "when he has to be" being the operative phrase. Also "when the TARDIS deigns to cooperate." **LadyDunla:** You're very welcome! And I am a stinker with the cliffhangers, aren't I? hopefully this makes up for it! **Hibari heza:** Yep, I try to keep a regular Monday/Wednesday/Friday posting schedule. Glad you're enjoying the series, and thanks for the lovely reviews! **Blue Stone Shining Wolf: **The Doctor + The Mythbusters = JUSTTAKEMYMONEYNOWANDGETFILMING. Oh, the thrills they would have. And that's one of the things I like best about Rose, besides being compassionate, she's perceptive. She makes the effort to understand. But I'm so thrilled the Episodes are turning out well. That's exactly what I wanted, to give Nine and Rose all the adventures they _should_ have had. Plus, eventually, kissy face. But we'll get to that all in good time. **TK:** AH! I just got done reading your update and now I need to run back and review it, but I had to get this up first. ANYWHO, yes, Rose has never been one to give up easily, and it's so fascinating to explore all her feelings and motives. And I adore Caffa, too. A survivor with a heart. And I think you might like who they run into next episode. I mean, I call her a nosy, loud-mouth temp, but I do so love her.

* * *

"Well, that went well," The Doctor commented. He and Rose stood together on the limestone cliffs above the Iberian Sea, looking up at the wreckage of the Judoon craft as it began to burn in the upper atmosphere. Several hours past midnight, the third moon of Barcelona had just risen above the horizon, engulfing a fifth of the sky. Rose could see the craters and shadows on its silvery surface with stunning clarity, and The Doctor had explained that the moon was much closer to the planet than was safe, and that the Spanish colonists had stabilized its orbit with gravity satellites to prevent its eventual collision with the planet and minimize the wobble it otherwise caused in Barcelona's rotation.

"We ended up on Lucifer," she reminded.

"I got us off the ship," he defended, "Besides, the food was excellent." After landing on Lucifer, where it had been mid morning, the Pituari had been more than a little shaken up. The Doctor had insisted he could take them back to Barcelona if they wished, but the Pituari had refused. Though grateful, they'd been clearly mistrustful of the TARDIS and her mercurial pilot. So, Caffa had given Rose a massive hug before she; her mother, Jax; and her older sister, Goa; had disappeared into the early morning crowds. Rose and The Doctor had watched them go before she'd turned to the Time Lord and insisted on breakfast.

"It was," she allowed, "and I _was_ starving." They stood in silence a moment, watching the aftermath of their night's work. Even with Barcelona's stunning view of the Milky Way and positively gargantuan moon, the Judoon ship blazed brightly in the night sky. It had broken into two roughly equal pieces and a third, much smaller one. It was all oddly gratifying, blowing up a Judoon ship after everything they'd put them through. Rose hadn't had the heart to ask The Doctor whether all the Judoon had successfully made it to the evacuation craft.

"They made it off the ship," he offered several minutes later, and Rose jerked her attention to him, "What?"

"I swear you can read my mind sometimes," she eyed him carefully, "That's just creepy."

"You apes, you're so predictable," he teased, "Jus' the same, I intercepted the Judoon fleet's transmissions after the blast. Had to make sure they reported the Pituari terminated. Which they did, and I caught a communiqué to their fleet admiral advising him of the destroyed ship. All escape vessels launched, all personnel accounted for."

"Tha's good," Rose smiled, "Now I can enjoy the flaming wreckage in peace."

"What is it with you and explosions?" his tone was mildly scathing, but his intention clearly rhetorical.

"Asked the alien who carries three different varieties of explosives along with both remote and timed detonators in his pockets."

"Don't change the subject."

"It jus' feels complete, yeah? Like there was unfinished business and now that you've blasted somethin' to smithereens, all is right in the universe."

"You're a very violent young woman," he observed, though the statement had no teeth, and Rose grinned broadly.

"Yeah, heard that one before. Not my fault, though. First time I met The Doctor, he blew up my job."

"What for?"

"Livin' plastic," Rose smiled, remembering the very first time he'd taken her hand and urged her to run, "The Nestene Consciousness. I was workin' at Henrik's, and I got cornered by a bunch of surplus shop window dummies in the basement. The Doctor got me out and blew up the relay device on the roof." When she glanced over at him, The Doctor was giving her an inscrutable look. "What?"

"Nothin'," he shook his head and averted his gaze to the vast expanse of moonlit sea that stretched out before them, "Jus'… It happened differently, here."

"You still fought the Nestene Consciousness?"

"Of course, but it was a toy shop I found the relay device in. I blew up a Hamleys."

"Henrik's. Hamleys. Close enough," Rose chuckled, then a thought occurred to her, "So, there was no one to help you, then?" The Doctor didn't answer right away. He remembered Lynda, the girl who'd been in the stock room when he'd located the signal. Several buckets of LEGOs had overturned themselves and constructed a technicolor T-Rex that had chased her through the store. She'd eventually worked her way into helping him find and defeat the Consciousness, and very nearly got herself killed in the process. When she'd asked to come with him, he'd panicked, said no, and fled for the stars. There had been someone to help him, yes, but it hadn't been Rose. He realized, then, just how severely he'd gotten screwed over in this universe.

"There was," he shrugged as noncommittally as he could manage, "I sometimes run into people willing to help. Who make themselves useful. I _am_ capable of making friends, you know."

"Yeah, but why didn't you invite any of them along? Find someone to travel with?" she had a nagging suspicion this might be a loaded question, but she was genuinely curious as to what had stopped him. Thinking of The Doctor, particularly this version of him, traveling alone made her heart ache.

"Well 's not exactly safe, is it?" he dismissed.

"Didn't stop The Doctor askin' me," she pointed out.

"He asked you?"

"Well, yeah," she said, stymied as to what else would have led to her traveling with him, before giving him a smug grin, "I did save his life, after all."

"'Course you did," he gave a mirthless laugh. That sealed it, his universe had drawn the short straw.

"I mean, I was a bit stupid about the whole thing. The Doctor offered to show me the universe, but Mickey was clingin' to my knees, beggin' me not to go, so I said 'no' at first. When the TARDIS disappeared, I thought that was it, and I knew, immediately, I'd made the biggest mistake of my life. Then, just as we were walkin' away, the TARDIS came back, and The Doctor stuck his head out and said the ship also traveled in time. So, I kissed Mickey goodbye, and off I went."

"Wait, he asked you twice?" his demeanor was wholly disbelieving, but as soon as the words were out of his mouth he knew he'd have done the same damn thing.

"Yeah, well, guess he thought it was only fair to let me make a fully informed decision. I mean, a spaceship disguised as a police box is one thing, a time-traveling spaceship disguised as a police box is quite another." She was clearly being facetious, but The Doctor was lost in thought. As concerned as he'd felt asking her to travel with him, he couldn't help wondering how her Doctor had felt when she'd said no, and the thought alone chilled him. Yet, he'd gone back, asked a second time. This Doctor never asked twice, and he suspected his alternate counterpart was no different. Still, the other Doctor had returned for her, and if he was being honest with himself, he knew he would have, as well. As he looked at her, now, oblivious to this knowledge, he decided against making anything of it.

"Doctor," her voice cut through his ruminations, and he realized he'd been silent for some time and she'd moved on to another topic. "What's it like?" His brow furrowed as he tried to catch up.

"What's what like?"

"Regeneration?" she wasn't looking at him, instead staring at the gently rolling water hundreds of feet below, "Is it… Does it hurt?" To say he was taken aback was an understatement, and his immediate reaction was to withdraw, to obfuscate, to change the topic or to outright berate her for bringing it up. Then, he remembered how she'd given him his name, the name of his people, when he'd been unable to provide it. How she'd said those two words with such understanding and care. She hadn't expected anything of him, and she wasn't expecting anything, now. She was asking a simple, sincere question, one she couldn't help asking.

"You don't just know about it, do you?" he asked, suddenly recognizing the enormity of what she'd said on the Broken Island, "You saw him change." She didn't answer, only tilted her head down, her eyes closed. He knew exactly why she'd brought it up. She wanted to know if he'd suffered, and he so badly wanted to reassure her. Only, he couldn't. Not without knowing the circumstances of his regeneration, and not while knowing her as he did. He could say without reservation that The Doctor had not wanted to leave her. He'd not been ready to go.

"'S all right," she said, shaking her head and looking up at him with a forced smile when he didn't answer right away, "Come on, then. Back to the ship."

"It's like a rollercoaster," he said, quickly, halting her as she'd moved to turn back toward the TARDIS, "Normally, anyway. It's all terror and adrenaline and anticipation. When it's all over your hearts are beating a million miles an hour and you feel you might be sick. But," he knew he had to be honest, "It's like dyin', too. The memories get transferred, mind, but the sensory details don't. It's like, you remember all these things you've done, all these wonderful people, but more as an incredibly detailed film than an actual memory. In the beginning it drives you a bit mad, havin' to start from scratch but with the burden of someone else's memories. Things taste different and feel different. You've no idea what you'll look like or act like." The fierce attention in her hazel eyes would have been unnerving to a lesser man, but The Doctor understood her intensity.

"But it's not terribly painful?" she asked, and his hearts sank.

"Depends on what… Depends how it was triggered," he caught himself, "But even then, it might hurt in the moment, but not after."

"Right," Rose looked away, back at the TARDIS, mulling something over. The Doctor was at a loss, unable to ease her troubled thoughts, not without perjuring himself grievously. Finally, she seemed to reach some manner of internal resolve, and turned back to him, smiling gently, "Sorry for what I said. At the prison. I don't want you to think I wouldn't stick around if you…" She couldn't finish the sentence.

"Did you not like him?" he was absolutely dying to ask what he was like. It wasn't often a Time Lord got a peek at his future regeneration.

"No, no, 's not that. He was still every inch The Doctor, 's just… I wasn't ready for it. It was unexpected, and he tried his very best to explain it to me while it was happening, and it still scared the hell out of me. In fact," she smiled, "that's when he said he wished he could take me to Barcelona. I didn't understand why he couldn't, and then..."

"He changed," The Doctor supplied, and Rose nodded.

"Asked if I wanted him to change back," she said with a rueful grin, "I think he was a little surprised when I said 'yes.' Of course, he couldn't."

"No, he couldn't."

"Anyway, eventually I realized he was still The Doctor, and we continued travelin' and it was a blast, it really was. I just… When I saw you come down the stairs in the kitchen, when I heard your voice and saw that face…"

"What, this daft thing?" he asked, trying to bring some levity to the conversation when she let her sentence drop.

"I always missed him, is all," she shrugged, finally turning to walk back toward the TARDIS, and The Doctor fell in step beside her, "Like you said, even though he was still The Doctor, he was a different person, and I just... I'd really appreciate it if you could maybe try not to get yourself killed. Just for a bit."

"Oh, I'll try," he said with exaggerated wariness. Beneath his feigned annoyance, his chest felt full to bursting with devilish pride. She may have gotten along with his tenth iteration fine, and that was saying quite a lot for the resiliency of one Rose Tyler, but it seemed clear she preferred this man to the next.

"I mean it, you're a walkin' hazard, you are."

"Fine, fine, yes, I will do my best not to get mortally wounded, and turn into…" he fished less than subtly.

"Nice try, but I'm pretty sure that's cheatin'."

"Nothin'? Not a hint?"

"I think it's better left as a surprise," she said as she reached the door and put her key in the lock. She knew without a doubt if her original Doctor had seen his successor, with the suits and the gelled hair and the glasses he only wore to look cleverer, he'd have gone back in time to make sure the Daleks actually killed him.

"All right. Fair enough. But, could you at least tell me if…"

"You're not ginger."

"Dammit."

* * *

The Doctor sat on the jump seat, poring over the notes he'd begun in the last several days. Now and then he'd stop and jot down a note here or scribble out bits there that, in hindsight, were clearly rubbish. It had started with a vague idea, a notion prompted by Rose's sobbing confession the night they'd picked up Galileo to show him, once and for all, that his home confinement had been so very worth it. He couldn't tell Rose, not without the risk of getting her hopes up. Still, after she'd gone to bed, their conversation on the cliffs had instilled a newfound determination in the Time Lord. He was in the throes of inspiration, and he prayed his theories on the TARDIS were correct, and that she'd help him.

Finally settled on his equations, The Doctor jumped eagerly to his feet and began plugging in complex coordinates and manipulating the ship into the Time Vortex, his only hope for opening up any manner of communication with Rose's home universe. Rose had told him the walls between the realities had been closed off, by necessity, but the TARDIS existed in a state of being that was simultaneously attached to her home universe and, well, not. He'd developed a theory that, while in the no-man's land of the Time Vortex, it might be possible for one TARDIS to communicate with another, provided it's also inside the Time Vortex, in a parallel universe. The trick would be getting the correct universe, and he was relying on the TARDIS's analysis of Rose's energy signature to dial that in, but also the correct Doctor. More importantly, he wanted to find the correct Doctor at the correct time.

"What?!" the unexpected voice startled The Doctor from his feverish work, and he glanced up, shocked to see a rather skinny man, perhaps an inch or two taller than himself, with a shock of unruly brown hair and prominent sideburns, wearing a brown pin-striped suit under a long, brown duster.

"Who the hell are you?" The Doctor asked, "And what are you doing in my TARDIS?"

"_Your_ TARDIS?! This is my TARDIS!" the other man paused to look at him a second, and his brown eyes went wide with recognition, "It's you! How are you doing that? Show me." Without invitation, the man rushed up beside The Doctor, pulling a pair of thick-framed glasses from his pocket and peering down at the monitor.

"Oi!" The Doctor protested.

"No, no, that can't be right. How can that be right?"

"Oi, mate," The Doctor repeated, making to shoulder the lanky man out of his way, but finding that he was, in fact, only an image, "Oh. Fantastic." The Doctor had largely figured out who this intruder was, but a small part of him was still praying he was wrong. Maybe this regeneration was much further along. Still not ginger, though.

"Was I really that gruff and unpleasant?" the other Doctor (and he just had to be _pretty_, didn't he?) mused, "Oh well, no matter. How are you doing this?! This is amazing!"

"Never mind that," he was suddenly questioning his originally very altruistic motives, "Which me are you?"

"Uh, well, the next. That is, you regenerate into…"

"Got it, thanks," The Doctor gave him a thoroughly insincere smile, "Do you know a Rose Tyler?" When the other man's cheerful, irreverent face suddenly fell serious, he knew he'd gotten it right. Or, rather, the TARDIS had. He wasn't entirely sure he could take much credit at all for this startlingly quick success.

"What do you know about Rose?" it was more threat than question.

"She's fine," The Doctor assured, immediately, "In fact she's more than fine. She's fantastic." He could help smiling at that, and the tension in his parallel self eased slightly.

"How did you… How are you… What?!"

"Nice to know how well-spoken I become," The Doctor grumbled, "I'm assuming you're The Doctor who left her in another universe, yes?"

"How can you exist?!" The tenth Doctor spat out

"How can I not?!" The ninth answered, incredulous, "Judging by the wide similarities, save the absence of something Rose calls a Monty Python, between these two universes, they split from each other no more than two or three hundred years before Rose came here. Now, I'm no spring chicken, and that means, neither are you."

"But, I traveled to that universe. How did I not…" The bespectacled Doctor let the sentence drop, but his alternate self knew what he meant. Why didn't the tenth version of himself sense his ninth incarnation when he arrived in this universe?

"Because the energies of our universes have diverged, they're no longer identical. Because I may or may not have been behind the borders of a time-lock when you arrived. Because you're slow on the uptake. Pick one."

"Or, because we're the essentially the same person," The tenth Doctor realized, ignoring the dig.

"Don't say that. Don't ever say that, again."

"No, but we are. I couldn't hear you because you're me. I'm already in my own head."

"Please, just shut it." The ninth Doctor pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes closed in irritation, "I get the implication. I'd rather not, but I do. Jus' listen. I wanted you to know that she's safe." When he looked up again, the other Doctor's expression was soft and hopeful. Despite himself, the ninth Doctor felt for him. "How long ago?"

"Three days," his future alternate self breathed. The TARDIS, magnificent ship that she was, had gotten it right on the nose.

"Ten years, here. She'd been working for Torchwood, before I ran across her. You'd be proud of her; she built a wonderful life for herself. Found a way to save the world on her own. She's… fantastic."

"How did you… How did you find her?"

"I wasn't really lookin', mind. Long story, anyway, involves a chicken and a jailbreak. Point is, I think… I think it's the TARDIS who found her."

"Wouldn't surprise me in the least," The tenth Doctor was beaming, now, those ridiculously large teeth on display, "You're lucky. So very, very lucky."

"I know," The Doctor replied.

"No, you don't. Not yet. But you will," there was something both purely joyful and abjectly sorrowful in the pretty boy's brown eyes, and The Doctor was hesitant to define it or guess its origin, "Just know that it's worth it. All of it. Even after she's gone." Suddenly, the ninth Doctor didn't want to hear anymore.

"Right, well, I should cut this short. Lots to do." He turned away from his future self, and the tenth Doctor stood for a moment, watching him in earnest sympathy. This other Time Lord honestly hadn't a clue what he was in for, but the tenth Doctor did. He had felt it, immediately after regeneration, something he wasn't supposed to feel, something that had carried over in direct contradiction to the regeneration process, something he'd guarded almost as closely as his predecessor. It was more than just memories, which would have been thoroughly sufficient to doom his new self; he had come into being with that fierce, intractable burning in his hearts. The last act of a desperate man wishing he could hold on to _something_.

"Thank you," the tenth Doctor said, and his alternate self glanced up, smiling reluctantly, "Really, you have no idea what this means to me."

"You're welcome," he returned his attention to the monitor momentarily before remembering something, "Oh! Before you go, Rose wanted to say she's sorry. I mean, she has no idea I attempted this, but she told me about what happened with her father, and she regretted never saying she was sorry for the fight. I told her you already knew."

"Of course I did."

"Jus' the same. She's sorry."

"Thank you... Maybe I'll hear from you again? Where are you headed, now?"

"Well, we were just there, but didn't get a chance to look 'round much. Bit busy," The Doctor said, his hand on the switch to terminate the connection, but he looked up into the eyes of his future self and smiled knowingly, "Shame for her to miss it." The other Time Lord beamed back at him.

"Barcelona."

* * *

**Footnote:**

"And as the world comes to an end

I'll be here to hold your hand

'Cause you're my king and I'm your lionheart."

-Of Monsters and Men: King and Lionheart


End file.
